Once More, With Teeth
by Phenobarbital
Summary: After the fall...Will was left behind. He knows it's the last chance he has to make things right...so he goes in search of Hannibal. But instead, he finds Nigel. [X-over with Charlie Countryman] [M for canon typical imagery & violence] [Please read Author Notes]
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'Hannibal' or 'Charlie Countryman'. Lyrics belong to Finger Eleven._

 _NB: This story can be found AO3 including images that cannot be loaded on FF. Also, Chapter 3, which contains NC 17 slash content, will be loaded censored on here but will be uploaded in full on AO3._

 _\- This begun as something simple and turned into something long. It was meant to be a one shot but when it ended at 80 pages I decided to break it up. It will be 3 parts and an epilogue._  
 _\- While this is a crossover, it's still mostly Hannibal based._  
 _\- I have other Hannibal story ideas, but I'll see how this one goes first._  
 _\- Sensitive readers, tread lightly._  
 _\- If anyone reading this is waiting on BFS Part 3, please don't be mad at me. I had to get this out of my system._

* * *

 _I burn and melt and stick and fade_  
 _Your temporary arms invade…_

* * *

It had been a year…a year and almost a month, twelve days short of a month actually…so a year and eighteen days. Honestly, Will could have calculated it down to the hours, probably even the minutes, but he was preoccupied at that moment, distracted from his usual thoughts of why and how and what and if.

Because right then, in that moment, all Will could think about was here and now and there…right **there** …

* * *

A year and eighteen days; the first weeks of which were spent recovering from two stab wounds –right cheek and right shoulder- and healing a broken, previously dislocated, arm –from the impact to the water after taking a plunge into the unforgiving strip of the Atlantic ocean, which had been battering the foot of the cliff on the night he'd participated in the transcendent murder of The Great Red Dragon. Days lying in a sterile hospital room with policemen posted outside his door and a handcuff on his wrist, innocent until proven guilty but still untrusted by anyone who'd assumed they'd known him before.

Then weeks into months in and out of court; until Will was decidedly free from any charges due to the insufficient evidence to lock him up and a successful self-defense plea that he'd sold like an academy award winning actor and had somehow managed to pull off, despite his previous questionable transgressions. He was a free man again, considered a survivor of two prolific serial killers and also the media's wet dream idea of an exclusive story.

But he wouldn't sell the story of The Chesapeake Ripper and The Red Dragon's final showdown. Not ever.

To Will…it was priceless.

Still, his pictures made it into every local –and a few non local or even national- newspapers and magazines and even onto television. He no longer had stitches in his face but the scar was nicely visible on his _intentionally_ clean shaven face in every single photograph or clip of courthouse footage. He wasn't going to hide it from anyone, he found he didn't care what anyone thought of believed, whatever conclusions they drew.

Will felt dead to world, removed from it, and he got by with only one purpose in mind throughout the trial proceedings and his –expected- divorce proceedings…

…he had someone he needed to find, and he had to be a free man to do so.

* * *

So when it was finally over, when he was no longer under any kind of police surveillance and was able to ditch the media surveillance too, Will left Baltimore, also abandoning his life in Virginia and he never looked back.

And in the minutes, hours, days, weeks and months that followed his acquittal, he began and spent all of his time _searching_. It was all he had left to do, all he had left to need and want and miss and regret, all he could think about…

* * *

 _One of many last warnings_  
 _Cannot wipe the conscience clean…_

* * *

Hannibal Lecter had made sure Will survived falling off the cliff –by some fucking miracle- and then he had waited, the pair of them washed up on a strip of beach a mile down from the cliff side, injured and cold, until Will had been just conscious enough to be aware. Once Will had acknowledged him with a pained and cold, teeth chattering exhale of his name, Hannibal had knelt beside him and told Will a quiet, rasped goodbye. His hand had been just slightly warm against the uninjured side of Will's face, as he'd stared up at a bleary outline of Hannibal Lecter. Will had frowned and breathed out a quiet 'no' just when he'd felt the brief touch of a kiss to the corner of his blue-hued mouth, and he'd tried so hard not to, but Will hadn't been able to keep the blackness from overtaking him, he'd passed out…

…and woken up two days later in a hospital in Prince William County.

He'd obviously been in physical pain once he'd been conscious again, but he'd also suffered concealed emotional wounds…because he didn't know why Hannibal had left him behind, but he had, and it _hurt_. And he'd not even left Will for _dead_ apparently, because Will later learned that the authorities had received an untraceable call which had told them exactly where to find Will Graham.

For that reason, Hannibal Lecter had not been presumed dead, but had disappeared without a trace all the same.

Will considered it a wonder how he managed to get away so easily, honestly, it was just so damn efficient, but his disappearance was still too fresh and Will was still too angry about it to be impressed. Even though Hannibal had ruined his own chances of being a closed 'deceased' case, no longer hunted, in order to save Will's life, and even though if he'd killed Will, or just let the Atlantic have him, it would have made more sense…even with that, Will was still angry at him for just _leaving_.

Will had also felt betrayed in those first few days after waking…but then regret and longing had set in when he'd actually admitted to himself that he'd tried to kill them both off the edge of that cliff, and so he knew he had no right to be angry at Hannibal in any way, for leaving him behind.

After all, how many times could one man, and a man like Hannibal Lecter especially, accept rejection after rejection from someone like Will Graham –broken and volatile- before he decided to cut his losses, and amazingly, not Will's throat.

Will was truly surprised he'd stuck around and endured as long as he had.

In the end though, even though it had hurt, the fact that he'd been left behind had been an eye opener for him, because nothing reaffirmed for him, more than realizing what he'd lost now that it was gone, how much he needed what he'd discovered he had with Hannibal that night on the cliff, when they'd murdered Dolarhyde together. Will couldn't even consider returning to his former life.

He'd felt the opposite of relief or joy in waking up to the realization that Hannibal had cast him aside, there'd been no good feelings in him at the sight of Molly when she'd come to see him in hospital, no inclination to tell Jack Crawford that he needed to find Hannibal, that the Chesapeake Ripper was definitely not dead, and no desire to return home to the quiet of Wolf Trap…not even any particular feelings of interest in seeing his dogs again.

Will Graham as he'd been, had died in the ocean and Will Graham as Hannibal evolved him, now existed.

And he wanted a life with Hannibal.

But he hadn't been coherent enough that night, half dead and barely conscious, to tell that to Hannibal before the man had left him there, bleeding into the sand.

* * *

And so it was, that Will had been left to _wait,_ to bide his time while turning away Molly and the false peace she'd once offered him, turning away Jack's continued interest in his killer-catching mind, turning away Freddy Lounds and every other journalist or reporter looking for an exclusive interview or a book deal…turning away every person and anything that threatened to get in the way of his search…

* * *

 _The strain wears in, you whore me in again…_

* * *

But Hannibal was a man near **impossible** to find.

Will had found him once of course, tucked away in Europe, but only because Hannibal had led him there in that way of his, that _intimate_ way, that he'd led Will with all along. Hannibal would use cleverly timed and persuasively spoken words, bits of information laced with ominous and intriguing meanings and secrets, hidden inside obscure and varied conversations they'd had over the course of their bizarre 'friendship'.

This time however, Hannibal had left him with _nothing_ , not even an old clue as to where he'd be.

This time…it seemed he hadn't wanted Will to know where he could find him.

But Will wasn't about to give up.

He set his sights on Europe first and foremost, because regardless of Hannibal being unable to return to Florence, or even Italy on the whole, the man's tastes were so distinctly old European, that the idea of him choosing to live somewhere else just seemed unlikely. And Europe was far bigger than just Italy.

So, after doing some research about Europe, sorting out his finances and allocating his life savings entirely for his travel budget, Will set off and he went only where he thought Hannibal might go to start a new life.

He looked in the most likely places, the beautiful places, small or large cities suiting Hannibal's particular tastes, but also places that had healthy tourist populations, so as to suit his unique appetite, and also, Will looked vigilantly for any murders resembling Hannibal's cannibalistic M.O, missing organs or body parts, checking news feeds all over Europe every day that he travelled.

He started in Spain, searching Salamanca, Seville, Jerez, Burgos, Pamplona and Zaragoza, then moved on to France, Nice, Bordeaux, Marseille, Toulouse and Lyon. From Antwerp, Mons and Namur in Belgium he travelled to Dresden, Baden Baden, Hanover, Augsburg, Bayreuth and Bremen in Germany and then to Vienna, Graz and Linz in Austria. Each time he'd book a cheap hotel and stay for a week or more, depending on the size of the respective city, as well as a rental car, and he drove around every day, all over, looking and looking.

Will hadn't wanted to acknowledge the frivolity of trying to search a continent for a single man, he tried his best not to think of the fact that he could have missed Hannibal in the many cities he didn't search, or even worse, in one of the cities he had tried to search.

But when there was nothing after so many cities and countries, he began to feel lost and hopeless, edgy and angry.

All alone and completely afraid of it.

* * *

 _Cannot connect the smirking world_  
 _The poison flower comes uncurled_  
 _If I believe I'm dreaming_

 _And if they find you lost again_  
 _What will you tell them then?_

* * *

By the time Will was in Prague for four days, his first stop in Czech, he'd been travelling for six months already, give or take a few days. Six months since he'd abandoned his home in Virginia, six months since he'd started using on his life savings so that he had the financial resources to find Hannibal…and still, there was nothing.

Not a trace of him in person or in the news.

A thought had come to him six days prior to where he currently found himself sleeping in Prague, he'd been half drunk and nowhere near sleep, lying on a shabby bed in a cheap motel in Linz. It had been hot and he'd felt sick, constant weather changes and jet lag not helping, and it had made him shake with anger and fear, the thought that maybe Hannibal hadn't survived after all, maybe he'd left Will there and died afterward, maybe his death should have been presumed and was just differently dated.

Maybe Will was truly alone…by no fault other than his own.

He hadn't slept that night and the following evening he'd booked himself a flight to his next –but nowhere near last- destination on his list, Prague. Although, since his funds were dwindling, he knew he'd have to prioritize and amend his budget and list before travelling any further. Next on his list had been Brno and Mikulov in Czech, before he'd planned to travel to Hungary and its cities matching his 'Hannibal Criteria' list, but it wasn't looking very good in terms of money.

There had been a hollowness in his gut at that point and every moment since, the feeling of a distinct inevitability that even if Hannibal was alive, Will didn't have enough money to search every corner of Europe for him and even if he managed that feat, there was always the possibility that Hannibal wasn't even in Europe at all.

* * *

Presently, he felt like screaming and ripping his hair –or someone else's throat - out as he stared up at the flight board, standing in a busy queue of the Václav Havel airport to purchase a ticket to Brno. He was a mess in creased clothes, hung over, un-showered, his curly hair unruly, eyes half lidded, glossy, shadowed, his jaw as well with the growth of his unkempt beard, his teeth weren't even brushed…

…and yet, regardless of how pathetic and unsightly he knew he looked at that point, when he heard **that** voice in the moving crowd of people somewhere behind him, somewhere at a short distance, that _distinctive_ accent that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and a warm welcome shock travel down his spine, Will would have run to it immediately, appearance be damned. He would have pushed through anyone and everyone, made a commotion to bring attention to himself, he would have done _anything_ to let Hannibal know he was _there_.

They were in the same place **finally** and completely by chance, maybe even by some perverse sort of _fate_.

And Will knew it because Hannibal's accent was as unique as the man himself.

He'd instantly turned around in the queue, ignoring the stink looks he received from the other people when he started moving out of the line hastily, bumping into people with his luggage trolley and trying to see Hannibal over their heads. But he wasn't able to spot the man in the bustle of people, not even the shape of him, though Will looked for him, a smooth brown and ash blonde head of hair with highlights of natural gray, broad shoulders with perfect posture, a long and lean body…

He was breathing heavily suddenly and he felt too warm, the heat in Prague wasn't so bad and the airport was ventilated well enough, but the heat _under_ his skin was stifling, the panic rising at the thought of _losing_ Hannibal when he'd only just found him by complete fluke, was making him dizzy. He felt sweat drip down his forehead from his hairline, his glasses slipping down on his nose, droplets rolled down his torso beneath his thin T-shirt as he moved and turned and stood on his toes inside the moving crowd, desperately trying to spot Hannibal, pushing his luggage trolley ahead of him, which was slowing him down.

He knew he couldn't lose Hannibal in that airport, he knew he'd **never** find him again if he did.

"No…n-no, no, no, no, no…" he was muttering to himself as he did another 360 after walking further down into the airport, far past the ticket counter, he'd been going in the direction he thought he'd heard the voice but…

…Will stopped breathing and turned sharply, an abrupt ninety degrees, when he heard it again. Pure, pure fucking luck on his side right then when he heard Hannibal talking again in all the noise and he quickly bobbed up on his toes and just in time, because he managed to spot a tall man –right hair, right build- in a small crowd of moving people, with a cell phone to his ear and his back to Will. It was only for a moment though, before he disappeared into the boarding terminal and out of Will's sight.

For a split second Will nearly lost his composure, he nearly yelled out Hannibal's name to get his attention, but he bit it back and nearly choked on air before he could give into that terrible and dangerous impulse and instead he _rudely_ started pushing through the people blocking his way to the terminal Hannibal had gone into.

A minute later, sweating and irritable, he was at the boarding gate that Hannibal had walked into but the attendant there had closed off the gate and she gave Will a false apologetic half smile,

"Je mi líto, pane, tento let je na odchodu. Budete muset získat další jeden k dispozici." _(I'm sorry, sir, this flight is leaving. You'll have to get another one available.)_ she said evenly, in the voice they probably trained her to use, firm but still nice enough.

And Will barely understood her, but her tone broached no room for argument and even so, Will wasn't fluent enough in Czech, German or Russian to argue or insist otherwise. He didn't want to waste any time anyway, so instead he just took note of the flight destination and headed directly to the ticket counters to book the next flight going to Bucharest.

* * *

The idea of Hannibal going to Bucharest for any reason other than to just pass through, maybe eat a few people whilst doing so, seemed unlike the man Will had known. Bucharest was not exactly the kind of place someone like Hannibal Lecter would visit or live in, unless he was forced to for some reason, or at least that was as far as Will assumed. It wasn't very attractive architecturally and it certainly didn't have a history of art or culture or expensive tastes usually associated with Hannibal, in fact, Will was certain there were other places in Romania Hannibal would have been more likely to live in.

Sibiu, Târgu-Mureș, Iași and Suceava had been on his 'Hannibal Criteria' list for Romania.

Still, the flight had been going to Bucharest and Will made sure to check with the airport help desk to find out if any of the Bucharest flights from Prague were meant to be connecting, and going anywhere else.

But it turned out none were, which meant for the moment, Hannibal would be in Bucharest…maybe.

The fact that Will only had an accent and a glance of a quickly disappearing male form to cling to, made him second guess himself. But that second guess was the best he had to go on, and so Will took the chance and booked the next flight available to Bucharest, which left Václav Haval airport two and half hours after the flight Hannibal had left on.

Of course, having followed Hannibal's flight did not mean he'd be able to follow the man and so he arrived in Bucharest at almost the same point he'd been at in every other city so far…with no idea of how to find the man he was looking for.

But at least he had that glance…

Will was exhausted by the time he landed at Henri Coandă airport, even more so from the brief shock of relief he'd felt at thinking his search was over, and then from the stress and anticipation that followed over whether he was right or wrong about having seen or heard Hannibal in the Prague airport at all.

He hated that even though he no longer had hallucinations –not really anyway- he did still have his very overactive imagination, and it made things unclear sometimes.

He picked up his luggage from the baggage carousel, and deciding he could do no more right then, since it was nightfall, Will rented a car and drove to Bucharest's city center with a map he'd purchased at the airport to guide him. Since Bucharest hadn't been on his list of places to visit, he hadn't read up on it at all. He'd also purchased a Tourists Guide booklet and managed to find a decently priced hotel with its help, and that's where he checked himself in.

He was going to sleep off the run of emotions he'd had in the last twelve hours –if he could- and then he'd start fresh in the morning. He had some hope now as well, which made a difference, even if was just a hope that he was at least close to being close.

* * *

He managed a few hours of sleep that night with the aid of Vodka ordered from room service.

* * *

 _Collapsing in again you found what makes it sore…_

* * *

The following day Will started early, it was just before eight AM when he left his room. He'd showered, he was washed up, his beard trimmed neatly and he was wide awake and ready to go after eating a fair amount of food from the hotel breakfast buffet, along with two cups of strong coffee. It was just enough to sustain him for the morning, until lunch time at least.

When he was done, he headed out into the relative heat of Bucharest with new confidence, but without a destination in mind.

* * *

It frustrated Will for the first hour that he spent driving around in his cheap white Skoda Citigo rental, the streets of Bucharest were oddly uninviting, the people he saw weren't smiling, the roads were littered, the buildings were unremarkable, in bad condition and all similarly colored and bland. It made his search that much drearier, but it still didn't slow him down. He drove and drove, the morning dragging on as he followed his map until eventually he came across a place from which he could purchase a local upcoming events newspaper and also an English to Romanian dictionary. Almost instantly, he felt a bit less lost.

Will sat down at a café soon after that, just before lunch, he ordered ' _Cafea neagra tare, fără adaos de zahăr_ ', forgot to order food, and asked for a pen with further haltingly pronounced Romanian. But as it turned out, he didn't need to because the young woman who served him spoke more English than he could fumble for Romanian in his dictionary and she spared him some trouble with an amused smile, bringing him a pen with a cup of strong black, sugarless coffee.

Will settled in there for a further hour, going through two more cups of coffee as he looked through the events newspaper and circled off all the places Hannibal –as he'd known the man once- was likely to visit, frequent or take an interest in.

Museums, art galleries, operas, high end social venues, the orchestra, wine tastings and other similar things.

When he was done with that, he paid his bill, thanked the girl with an awkward –mostly sincere- smile and then left, walking the busy sidewalk back to his car distractedly as he looked around for the street he'd have to take to be on his way to his first destination, which was a museum hosting an art show.

It didn't sound like something Hannibal would attend, but then, Will felt he had to exhaust every option.

* * *

By the time the sun was setting and the city of Bucharest was just a bit cooler and washed out in an overcast early evening glow, Will was at the end of his patience already. He'd had some foolish, subconscious hope that he'd find Hannibal on his first day there, he had been thinking he'd get lucky, maybe catch a break for once in his life, but it turned out he was still as destined for hardship now as he'd ever been.

Presently, he'd parked off and was walking along a wide boulevard, on his way to the Bucharest Opera House, which was the next nearest place on his half completed list of potential event places Hannibal might go to.

The day had been so long and his emotions had been so fluctuating, that Will was regretting more now than ever that he hadn't taken Hannibal up on his offer to elope that first time, sitting in the man's dining room, where Hannibal had been in touching distance.

He seemed so impossibly far away now.

But back then, Will could have reached out to Hannibal physically and Abigail would have been a living breathing gift for him…before he'd betrayed Hannibal's trust, his affections, before the blood and scars and every wrong thing they'd said and done to one another. Back before Will had explicitly known Hannibal was probably 'in love' with him but he had still been drawn to him all the same.

Back when it had been simpler somehow, even under all of the lies and darkness and murder.

Back before all of the stupid things Will had done to fuck things up.

Back, back, before and before and woulda'-shoulda'-coulda', useless-

Will's thoughts were interrupted and he looked over from where he'd stopped walking when he heard the sound of English being spoken. He'd been standing and looking up at the front of the large orchestra house, and after a day of listening to everyone speak in Romanian, hearing the American accent just up ahead caught his attention.

There wasn't anything interesting to look at really, it'd been more the surprise of hearing an American English speaking person after the long day he'd had that had made him look. And there, rushing down the wide stairs of the orchestra house, was a young, skinny, unkempt, Caucasian American boy. He was following anxiously and in a hurry after an older man who looked local and who also looked annoyed at being followed, like he was trying to shoo away a puppy who kept yipping at his heels.

Will didn't spare the pair further notice, even as he got a tangible vibe of impending trouble clinging to the young man with a fretting expression on his narrow face. Instead Will made his way toward the orchestra house intent on finding out about whether they had any big performances coming up, and all the while, he kept looking for anyone resembling Hannibal, someone posture perfect and dressed immaculately.

Dangerous and handsome and otherworldly.

* * *

Will saw no one like that and with anger burning through him all night, he didn't get to sleep very much.

* * *

 _You triggered off the feelings that you felt before…_

* * *

He was exhausted from his lack of sleep the previous night, and so when morning came he was feeling far less enthusiastic, his hope emptying out of him just as his blood once had when Hannibal cut a smile into him.

He felt morbid and miserable and he took his time getting ready that morning.

Will decided, as he showered, washed up and trimmed his beard, well after nine AM, that Bucharest would be his final stop. He'd use up his resources there searching for Hannibal and then he'd just live day by day, maybe he'd manage to survive, maybe he'd bump into Hannibal someday…or maybe he'd get deported.

He was too tired to care right then.

Will wasn't even really sure that he had it in him to continue to live beyond the point of not finding Hannibal. Because now he could barely exist trapped inside the person suit he'd worn for so many years. Since he'd had a taste of his real needs and desires, the soaring feeling in his veins that he'd experienced when taking The Red Dragon's life and the ache in his chest he'd felt at seeing the lust for him in Hannibal's black eyes, having been held in all of his bloody glory in the arms of Hannibal 'The Cannibal' Lecter… Will couldn't go **back**.

No… **time did not reverse**.

But even with the weight of reality on his shoulders, Will was prepared to head out that day, in spite of his sense of dread and the feeling of inevitable disappointment and failure and also a lot of anger toward himself, he still wanted to try, he wasn't going to give up altogether.

Hearing and seeing a person similar to Hannibal and knowing they'd come to Bucharest was the only lead he'd had in months and he was going to pursue it until he ran out of money or gumption, whichever came first. He was putting aside his misplaced eagerness though, deciding to tackle the task with as clear a mind as he could manage, prepared for any outcome as it were.

So he dressed as he hadn't in a while, not since losing Hannibal that night after the Atlantic. It wasn't 'tie and waistcoat' formal as Hannibal had always dressed, because that had never been in Will's comfort zone, but he wore his clothes that were more tasteful, far tidier, nicer, pricier and coordinated than everything else he owned, clothes he'd purchased so long ago he felt almost nostalgic when removing them from their garment bags. He felt closer to Hannibal somehow, when he dressed in the way the man had so appreciated on him, far more than the plaid and worn clothes the likes of which Will used to wear.

The suit he chose that day though, was a suit he'd never worn before, but had purchased with Hannibal in mind.

The weather was moderate that morning, so Will wore a matching slim-fit black suit jacket and formal pants with white windowpane patterning and satin piping. Beneath the jacket he wore a satin-cotton white button down shirt, open at the neck, and finally a pair of black leather oxfords. He'd long since taken to loosely styling his hair back and instead of wearing his glasses, he opted for his contact lenses. And when he surveyed himself in the mirror before leaving, aside from his recent minimal stress weight loss, Will approved of how he looked, while considering the way Hannibal had used to look at him –secretly- with appreciation for dressing better in those months before Hannibal Lecter had revealed himself to be The Chesapeake Ripper.

Stolen glances…Will hadn't appreciated them then, but he missed them now.

He smiled to himself at the thought of Hannibal's quiet approval, wondering what Hannibal might think of the suit he wore right then, far nicer and more expensive than most of what he owned. Will ran his hand over the front of his smooth shirt, frowning slightly at all of the bad memories that came along with the good ones, but while he couldn't be fond of every memory, they served to remind him of his first glimpses into just how much he affected Hannibal.

For instance, there was the memory of the day when Hannibal had come to see him in the privacy room at the BSHCI. Hannibal had started out _pretending_ , but then, when Will hadn't given him an inch, he'd taken a moment to consider it first, but he'd been genuinely honest with Will for the first time, he'd even allowed his mask to slip for a second when he'd admitted to Will that he didn't want him in there. At the time, Will had been too driven by anger and his perceived hatred for the man, for him to take note of how much that brief flicker of 'emotion' and _regret_ meant in terms of Hannibal's feelings for him.

It had left Will a little shaken later that same day when he'd played their conversation back over in his mind and he realized it, realized that he had that kind of affect, that he was under Hannibal's skin to some degree. He'd chosen to use that small bit of power to take advantage of Hannibal, because that had been their dynamic back then, they wanted to hurt one another, tit for tat. But once the moral fog in his mind had cleared, it became different for Will when he'd think about it while lying in bed beside Molly at night. To have seen Hannibal look at him for the briefest moment without his guard, without his person suit…it made him feel ardent toward Hannibal.

And so now, and in fact, every day since Hannibal had been locked away from him, out of sight but never out of mind, Will had felt that same feeling, awake or asleep…he'd _craved_ the sight and sound and presence of Hannibal, his strength and darkness, the smooth and sharp edges of him.

Will had hidden it well enough from Molly, but some days she'd looked at him differently, curious and suspicious, sometimes wary, and he'd known in those moments that his ugliness was peeking through, as if he had wide cracks in his skin with crooked antlers protruding, tearing through as his black blood seeped out.

On those days, he'd usually gone out fishing for hours just to avoid her seeing anymore of who he truly was.

But with Hannibal, every second he'd ever stood before or with the man, he'd never had to hide.

And when Bedelia had told Will, not out right, but close enough, that Hannibal was in love with him, innumerable feelings and thoughts he'd had since knowing Hannibal, had all fallen neatly into place with sharp clicks he'd felt like needles under his skin.

Because yes, Will did **ache** for Hannibal and even though that ache had had many faces and feelings and meanings, ultimately, it was capable of being anything and everything Hannibal wanted or needed from him. It was capable of evolving, it _wanted_ to become more, to merge, it had tried to…and that's what Will felt himself –consciously- wanting as well, almost instantly after she'd brought it up.

Especially having comprehended then that Hannibal had wanted and needed him all along, which meant he was already all he'd _ever_ needed to be in the older man's eyes.

Not Alana, not Bedelia, not Chiyoh…not even Abigail, had meant enough to Hannibal for him to _change_.

No, it was only Will Graham for Hannibal Lecter.

And Will felt a pain in his chest and lump in his throat when the pang of loss and regret ran through his body again, because while he'd acted on that ache, having orchestrated Hannibal's escape, Will had gone on to change his mind a hundred times over, second guessing himself silently about his reasons for doing so and about what he wanted as the outcome. Dead Dragon for certain…but…dead Ripper?

And then, pathetically, when it had come to that final moment, when he'd felt so amazing and so _sinful_ in the Devil's embrace, Will had been afraid of it, and he'd traded Hannibal's arms for those of Death.

He'd regretted that decision before they'd even hit the water…

Will swallowed down the lump in his throat as he averted his gaze from the mirror in his small hotel room, trying to shake off the unsettling memory, because those feelings of doubt were long gone now.

As far as he was concerned anymore, there was only Hannibal Lecter for Will Graham.

Pressing his fingers into his eyes briefly, Will cleared his throat and tugged at the hem of his expensive designer jacket absently before he grabbed his wallet and his city map and left the room with a cleared head.

* * *

 _I come crawling up again, I need to eat, I need a friend_  
 _Someone with me…_

* * *

Just after noon, found Will sitting down at a café in Lipscani.

The establishment had a long name, Cafeneaua Egipteană something-something, and it was the larger one of many cafés lining the side of a semi-busy and narrow walkway. Will was settled near the back, where it was less crowded since people seemed to prefer window or outside seats. He'd exhausted all of the places nearby in his search for Hannibal, so now all of the other places would require longer drives and maybe even a few entry fees and tickets to be admitted at the venues.

Good thing he'd worn his suit after all…

He sighed as he leaned back into the short-back wooden chair, which was not particularly comfortable, and his tired gaze settled on the small glass dish on his table containing the packets of sugar and sweetener. Next to it was a small vase with fresh flowers and flat on the table was the café menu that Will couldn't understand properly and hadn't brought his dictionary with to translate. It didn't matter though because he wasn't hungry, he was just drained and needed a pick-me-up, so he'd just ordered his usual strong coffee.

That had been a half hour ago and presently he was on his second cup, rubbing at his warm neck and trying to ease the tension in his muscles, thinking over where he had to drive to next…

…and Will would never have expected to actually catch that break he'd been thinking about, but when every hair on his neck and arms stood up again, body turning hot from shock instantly, Will could almost not **believe** it when his senses were wondrously assaulted by Hannibal Lecter's unique accent by complete coincidence a second time.

He caught the tail end of Hannibal's voice speaking,

"-what, you thought what?" he sounded irritable and unusually hostile.

Still, his voice was far closer than it had been in the airport and it was steady, not affected by movement or distance. Will focused his eyes as he glanced around trying to locate the owner of the familiar voice, because it sounded close enough that Hannibal may have been within feet of him. Will stood up from his table, feeling panicked and hot with anticipation.

"That a runty cunt such as you are ever stood a chance? Come on, son, this is reality when you don't fucking register." Hannibal's voice.

"I register fine, you greasy fuck."

Will frowned first and then his eyebrows shot up when he heard the response.

He recognized Hannibal's accent clearly but the _words_ being spokensounded all wrong. Hannibal Lecter did **not** speak so uncouthly. And who was he talking to like that anyway? Obviously someone with a death wish considering how they'd replied. There was a frustrating amount of noise around Will and he strained to hear anything more of the conversation, but the brief raised voice was gone now and the normal murmurs of the people inside the café covered anything else up. Still…the voice had been so close...

Will looked at the dark brown tinted windows of the café when it occurred to him that Hannibal may just be right outside and without hesitating, he walked toward the doors quickly, vaguely aware of the young man who'd served him his coffee quickly coming around the counter, probably thinking Will was trying to leave without paying.

But Will wasn't leaving, if he'd finally found Hannibal, he'd never leave the man's side again.

And when Will came to stop near the open café doorway, he lost his breath…because it **was** Hannibal…

* * *

 _No better feeling than escape, avoid the feeling so you're…_

 _…collapsing in again you found what makes it sore…_

* * *

… **right there** …

* * *

…Hannibal, Hannibal in the flesh, just a few meters away, through the café doors, sitting outside.

He'd been there, so close for how long, Will had no idea.

And it was undoubtedly him, there was no question because there were no two people like Hannibal in the entire world. So despite the fact that Hannibal was holding a lit cigarette between his long fingers, wearing a loose fitting casual button down shirt and that he had been speaking so improperly, Will didn't doubt for a second that it was still Hannibal Lecter.

Hannibal was talking to someone, his mouth was moving, head turning from one side to another, but through the opening of the door from inside the tinted dim café, Will could only see him. As he walked the rest of the way to the door, he felt the urge to say Hannibal's name aloud again, like he had wanted to in the airport, but he wouldn't…

…and never mind that, he didn't get a chance to anyway.

As Will placed his hand on the door to push it open, his eyes falling on the young man sitting across from Hannibal briefly, the waiter was just about to touch Will's shoulder to get his attention. He sensed it like he sensed a killer's motives and actions and designs, even with everything happening around him. But before Will could open the door and step out, before the waiter touched him, Will was stunned to a halt by what he _hadn't_ seen coming.

Hannibal had been sitting there, still and calm in one moment and then abruptly, quickly, he'd moved like a snake striking, forcefully kicking the young man sitting across from him squarely in the chest, -Will watched through the tint of the door- propelling the guy backwards and off his chair with such an impact that the slighter man hit the ground hard.

Will once upon a time, would have felt compelled to help the unknown man, but these days he wasn't so inclined.

He did however feel confused when a woman's voice yelled for 'Nigel' to let 'him' go. Hannibal had sprung up from his seat a second after he'd kicked the other man –as powerful, graceful and dangerous as ever- and Will watched through the tinted glass as he grabbed the younger man, who'd barely registered the kick he'd just received, up from the ground by his throat. So for the woman, who came into view through the glass, to say 'Nigel' should let the other guy go, she was obviously speaking to **Hannibal** , and it unsettled Will.

He pushed the café door open and stepped out when they moved out of his line of sight, and everything was happening in color now and not tinted brown. The other people around the café and street had also fixed their attention on the commotion. Will watched Hannibal move –firm and fast- dragging the young man –who looked sort of familiar- across the walkway with his impressive strength and only his hands tight around the man's narrow neck, the guy's feet nearly off the ground.

It all happened so fast then...

The girl - her short hair a fake vibrant red and her eye makeup black and thick- looked worried and upset as she followed the fight, she had none of the quick grace that Hannibal did, hell, even Will was quicker and sleeker in movement than her slight female form was.

Perhaps it was a trait unique to killers?

Will didn't watch her for long though, he looked back to Hannibal and the other man, who Will had a split second recognition of right then as being the American guy he'd seen outside the orchestra the day before. Hannibal was dragging him to a doorway that led into a block of what might have been small businesses or apartments.

Then Hannibal paused, holding onto the lightweight man's throat with one hand as he reached to grab a plastic bag off the top of a broom stick at the side of the door.

Will held his breath and his eyes widened as he watched the man he'd once known to be a world class serial killer who only operated in the shadows and had evaded capture for years, now blatantly, in full view of everyone present, wrap a plastic bag around the young American's head before dragging him into the building foyer and kicking the door shut behind them.

It was all done with skill and poise, confident and deadly accuracy in every movement, but there'd also been some emotion and anger and overtly expressed violence that was completely unlike Hannibal.

Behind Will, the waiter was calling for one of the other staff to alert the _poliţişti_.

Will blinked rapidly, taking a few more steps out into the narrow walkway and then a few more closer as he watched and listened to the red haired young woman demand that _Nigel_ open the door and that he stop what he was doing. She was trying to get it open, rattling the handle and sounding worried and scared for the American boy's life and a crowd was gathering. Will just blended into it, looking like every other spectator save for the complete lack of emotion on his face.

Even as his stomach did excited turns and flips at knowing Hannibal was within reach, whatever version of Hannibal it was not even mattering to him, Will was calm.

It was still Hannibal, **his** Hannibal.

Will couldn't make out what was happening behind the glass of the building doors, he wasn't close enough and the panicking woman was crowding the fogged glass of the doors that were already distorted by burglar guards as well. But then there was a moment where Hannibal was standing facing the door on the inside and talking to the red haired girl through it.

"Gabi, Charlie's in love," he said just audibly and Will frowned, "any idea who with?" he went on, talking fluently, eloquently and yet still so differently, leaving Will both anxious and needy to hear and see more of him, to understand what had changed.

Hannibal said something else but it was lost in the surrounding noise, he was also muffled by the doors but the girl, Gabi, seemed to be listening to whatever was being said, she could hear him, and she was no longer yelling, instead just holding onto the burglar bars and frowning in consternation.

There was more movement behind the doors suddenly and she started yelling again, denying something to _Nigel_ , probably something the American had said and more and more, Will's body was tensing up in anger and something uglier and unfamiliar in him, because of the picture this girl's words were painting for him of her and _Nigel_.

And then it hit Will, when she said ' _I told you Nigel, he means nothing to me._ '

Will hadn't even realized he'd been clenching his fists and teeth, his body coiled so tightly it hurt, until his subconscious suspicion was addressed by her words. And then the ugly thing, the **jealousy** he hadn't felt ever before for anyone, reared up fiercely and made his vision narrow in on the attractive girl yelling at the door for _Nigel…_ and Will easily imagined himself walking up behind her and snapping her neck. He could practically hear her spinal vertebrae cracking.

He wasn't as efficient at it as Hannibal was, making an exact C2 break wasn't in his realm of expertise so it probably wouldn't be as clean. But he could do it, it'd maybe kill her, maybe paralyze her but it'd hurt like fuck and, oh, did he want to hurt her so badly. Because the idea of Hannibal having had his hands or his mouth on her, or having shared his body with _anyone_ after what they'd experienced together on the cliff top, it felt like a knife in his stomach, in his chest and his throat all at once. Somehow, it was more and yet less painful than when he'd been stabbed in the face, but so similar though, to when Hannibal had surgically gutted him.

It felt like betrayal and fear…and also, bizarrely like infidelity, which didn't make any sense but it also somehow did. Because he was Hannibal's, - breath, blood, bone and body- and Hannibal was supposed to have been _his_.

And yes Will had fucked up, he knew that, he owed so much, had a lot to prove and make up for, but Christ, this **bitch** didn't deserve Hannibal.

The sound of sirens pulled Will out of his murderous daze, he'd been staring at the back of the girl's head, his vision tunneled and stained red with her imagined blood. But he blinked out of it and looked beyond her just in time to see the shape of Hannibal disappear inside, which meant he was fleeing before the police showed up.

He wasn't coming back out to where Will could see him or he could see Will.

Will worked it out quickly in his mind, thinking Hannibal had probably climbed the stairs and he frowned as he glanced up to consider the possible exits from inside the closed off arcade.

But he was also thinking that maybe Hannibal, or rather _Nigel_ , was a known criminal of some sort in Bucharest for police to have responded so quickly.

None of it made much sense, but right then wasn't the time to get caught up in the details of it. Hannibal had left and Will had to try and follow him, there was no other option. He was about to make a quick run to find a different entrance to the building even as he heard the police cars pull up at the entrance of the walkway, but then he noticed Gabi, the girl, slipping away quickly, before the police showed up.

That struck Will as _odd_ and when he noticed her glancing up at the building that Hannibal had disappeared into as she was walking away quickly, looking nervous and going in the opposite direction of the sirens, it occurred to Will that maybe she'd be looking for Hannibal too…or maybe, she was worried about him finding her.

Either way, as much as it irked him to think it, she was more likely to know where Hannibal would end up or she would be at the place where Hannibal would end up.

So Will followed her.

* * *

 _All the guilt pulls away, if only forever_

 _Replace the name, replace the fear_  
 _And I can't come out but I want you here…_

* * *

The red haired girl walked out of the Pasajul Macca-Vilacrosse arcade, and it was a good thing that she'd exited on the side of the building that Will had entered because she was traveling by car and if he'd been parked more than a few cars away from her, he wouldn't have been able to tail her. Two coincidences in one day, Will was thanking his lucky stars.

She was driving an off-white Trabant 601 and he followed her at an inconspicuous distance, even though she was in a hurry and wasn't paying much attention to her surroundings. It was ten minutes later that she entered the driveway of house that Will had to assume was her own…

…because she still hadn't come back out after an hour.

Will parked off a block down from the property, and only after having walked by the front and side of the house to see what he was dealing with, did he settle back into his car to wait. There were three entrances/exits that he'd been able to see, a main front gate, a driveway gate and then there was a single side gate, none of which were locked as far as he could tell. There'd been no other cars in the driveway so Will assumed she was alone in the house.

Presently, Will was parked on a corner where he could see all three of the gates almost completely clearly and he was watching carefully from a distance for anyone coming or going as he considered his options.

They were narrow in terms of the fact that they all ended in his head with him killing this 'Gabi' person who Hannibal seemed to have taken a liking to, and was probably fucking. In contrast though, his options were vast in terms of how he might go about murdering her. His imagination was not in short supply of scenarios.

He had no real reason to feel so bitter toward her, except for the fact that she was somehow _with_ Hannibal and in being so, she simply was not deserving, and that made her awfully expendable. After all, he doubted she had been through anything even close to what Will had suffered through, in order to be able to crawl inside of Hannibal's darkness and find warmth and comfort in the stifling heat and grasp of his evil.

No, definitely not, she looked like she might have been through a heartache or two, not unlike most young women, and that was nothing, nothing even remotely worthy of deserving Hannibal's attention, affection or even his cruelty.

Will may have stupidly and stubbornly turned Hannibal away a few times and he'd regretted it back then, now –and probably would forever-, but it didn't change the fact that he'd bled _for_ Hannibal, bled _because of_ Hannibal and would make others bleed if that's what Hannibal wanted from him in their future. **Their future**. Together.

She was not worthy. Whatever Hannibal had given her of himself was wasted. It wasn't _fair_.

Not after all the years that Will had suffered to get to where he was.

* * *

A further hour had passed as he sat there watching from his car, sitting as still as death but feeling unsettled with discontent and angry on the inside, unable to shake off his jealousy. Will had removed his jacket in the past sixty some minutes and he'd rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, keeping the windows open for air so he didn't have to use up gas having the aircon running.

When he'd last checked his cell phone it had been almost five PM and that had been about twenty minutes prior. He'd decided that he'd wait until six before he made any moves to forcefully find out where Hannibal was. He was getting irritable with being idle.

Will remained unmoving as the minutes ticked by, sitting low in the car seat with his head pressed back into the headrest. And eventually his patience was rewarded when at more or less a quarter to six, someone came around the corner at the other end of the street from where he'd parked…

…and Will stopped breathing for the second time that day, quickly sitting up straight when he recognized Hannibal.

When he'd seen Hannibal earlier that day it had been just a brief glimpse of the older man's profile before the fight had begun and a door had literally been shut on his view, closing Hannibal away with the stranger from America.

But now, with the early dusk sky painting everything orange and warm and nothing else in the way, Will took in the sight of Hannibal at the relative distance with more clarity. And he saw that Hannibal's hair was longer and casually styled, his clothes were informal and not as expensive as usual. He still held himself confidently, but there were differences in him that made Will frown, made him swallow uncomfortably and then doubt and wonder, concerned.

It couldn't be some lost Lecter sibling, Will was already shaking his head to himself at the idea as he watched the man walk along the curb. Because Hannibal had only ever had one sibling and she was dead years ago and there was no brother, and even more ridiculously, no twin, that existed. Doppelgangers were just folk-lore aside from being far-fetched and even if there were people in the world who resembled each other very closely, Hannibal's distinct uniqueness, the angles of his face, the accent and tone of his voice, the cut of his figure…no.

There was only one.

Will really just had to worry about how this different version of Hannibal Lecter, this man with what appeared to be a tattoo on his neck, who carried a poorly concealed firearm under the back of his loose fitting shirt, had an outwardly intimidating appearance and an unsubtle predatory gait, would receive him, because aside from that, he was, in fact, the real and _only_ Hannibal.

Hannibal was one of a kind…one kind of person, one kind of man, one kind of monster, the only of his kind and the only one who made the hair on the back of Will's neck stand as surely as he made the darkest reaches of Will's mind feel like home.

And right then, with the hair standing on his neck and a need he'd only ever felt for Dr. Lecter creeping up his spine, Will didn't hesitate to get out of the car and start walking toward the property that Hannibal had just entered seconds before and had disappeared out of sight into. The property into which Gabi had gone earlier, unsurprisingly, and he'd walked right in through the front gate like he owned the place.

Will's jealousy curled and poked ugly-like in his stomach and chest, sending a sharp and violent feeling up into his throat. It hurt to swallow it down, just thinking of Hannibal making such a _pathetic_ choice to replace him made him sick. Hell, Bedelia had been worth far more and Hannibal had never fallen for or changed himself to suit her.

So what the fuck was this? Who was this girl with lies and uncertainty writhing beneath the skin of her face?

Will had seen how she'd panicked, had felt the desperation coming off of her in waves for the American man while she'd been verbally denying that he meant anything to her to Hannibal.

It had been obviously hurting her as she watched Hannibal hurt the younger man...apparently _because_ of her.

It baffled Will, thinking it over as he walked quickly toward the side gate, crossing the street twice to get there, wondering what pathetic state of mind Hannibal had found himself in that he would fight a small man over an unworthy woman?

Hannibal didn't bend, he was immovable, he was a force…he was like a center of gravity.

Will's jealousy mixed with a rush of heady possessiveness for Hannibal as he pushed open the green wrought iron gate and stepped into the property. After a quick glance around the empty street behind him, Will continued in, trying to put a lid on his excess feelings before he became overconfident from the knowledge that Hannibal had bent and moved, shaped anew and had been drawn to him, for him, Hannibal had changed…just because of Will.

And all Will had done was let him down.

But now was the time to make it right. To last chances…

* * *

 _I'm laughing now and then it floods_  
 _But not out loud…_

* * *

Will walked the short path that turned a corner into a large front courtyard of an large double story house. The property and house were larger than Hannibal's house had been in Baltimore, but it was old and dated in appearance, poorly kept and more than likely lived in by people who were old money, property passed down for generations. Still, it held none of the beauty or for that matter, the ominous loom and intrigue, that Hannibal's house in Baltimore had. That house had been an unsettling work of art, especially for Will, who'd known the secrets that had existed there with Hannibal long before anyone else.

Will dismissed the comparison as easily as he did the fallen tree branches and other unkempt garden foliage that he stepped over as he made his way to the front door. The sound reminded him of Wolf Trap and then his home with Molly and Walter as well. In the months when it wasn't snowing, when there'd been gravel and sand and crispness to the plants and leaves, his dogs romping around in the yard and sniffing, tails wagging happily.

He knew he should have felt more when confronted with those memories, but the simple truth was that Will felt nothing, he was too far gone, too far removed from that life.

He'd arrived at the three stone steps leading up to the front door when it occurred to him that there was a good chance he was being careless by not having avoided every crunch of dried leaves under his shoes, or the fact that he might have been seen through the large windows. But it was too late then to care, besides, he wasn't going to waste any more opportunities by standing back, watching or waiting. He'd knock on the fucking door if he had to.

Boldly, Will climbed the steps to the front door, which conveniently stood slightly open and didn't even squeak on its hinges when he pushed it open just enough to slip inside. He paused, standing in a small cluttered atrium as he glanced further into what he could see of the house. The glass doors that led into the larger foyer were wide open, allowing him an easy, undetected entry. He noticed that the step into the second foyer had smudged chalk lines on it, but didn't spare it a second thought when after just his first few careful steps inside, Will listened in the direction from which he could hear tense conversation. It was coming from through the open doorway just to the left of where he stood.

The girl, Gabi, sounded tense. Hannibal sounded firm and even, his words were deceptively congenial –and noticeably condescending –but Will could hear it, he was familiar with it, the notes of warning and threat beautifully coalesced with Hannibal's strong accent.

Beautiful, Hannibal was beautiful in the darkest and most twisted ways.

And Will felt a longing for him which was a new and entirely welcomed feeling.

Gabi laughed abruptly and Will narrowed his eyes as he listened to the short and bitter sound of it,

"I told you, Nigel, I don't have the tape, I didn't even know there was a fucking tape." Gabi said, accent thick and her voice breathy and exasperated, she was sniffing, her emotions running high, "I don't know what Charlie was talking about." She denied with a shaken sigh.

"Well, there obviously is a tape and it obviously has to be **here.** " Hannibal's voice was moderately loud but his temper was restrained. Will listened as he changed gears, talking in a hurried manner, "Gabi, darling, I'm losing my patience, you understand, yes? Charlie, that boy…" a tense pause, "…that stupid little cunt…" this was said offhandedly and yet so harshly, also probably with parts of a smile and sneer from how it sounded, "…did he stay here last night, Gabi?"

There was an intense silence that followed that question which was loaded with another implication and Will could almost sense the fear radiating off Gabi from where he stood stock still just around the corner.

"Nigel, I-…" she hedged guiltily.

"Just answer the **fucking** question." Hannibal demanded, sending shocks of intrigue and confusion through Will with every word spoken profanely and with a lack of controlled structure.

Hannibal sounded…vulgar. Will decided he didn't like it.

"Yes, yes h-he stayed here…" she answered unevenly, her words more accented by her fear, "…but you and I were _not_ together, Nigel, you were gone for so long…for so much time…" there were footsteps and Will listened carefully to the placating tone that laced her next words, "…my father died and Papa, he, he hated you and I was angry at you…I just…I made a mistake, Nigel…he meant _nothing_ to me, I swear." Her tone had gradually softened, the lies on her tongue slipping out like silk and Will imagined that she'd stepped closer to Hannibal…to _Nigel, Nigel, Nigel._

Will felt sick.

The bitch was trying to manipulate Hannibal into forgiving her.

It was being done as plain as day and Will knew Hannibal would never be fool enough to allow that, or to eat up some sob story and yet…Will was afraid it would work because of her confidence in doing it, as if she'd done it before to _Nigel_.

And then there was the soft sound of a _kiss_ , lips to lips –Will clenching his teeth, _jealous_ \- before she whispered something to Hannibal in Romanian. It sounded like 'I'm sorry, I love you', Will wasn't a pro but he'd skimmed the dictionary for common words and phrases...those in particular had been of interest to him…

 _Imi pare rau. Te iubesc._

Even if she loved _Nigel_ , she didn't love or know or deserve Hannibal Lecter and she _wasn't_ sorry. She was a liar.

She sniffed again,

"The tape is probably here somewhere…I will look for it, alright? We'll take it to Darko and-…"

"And dear Charlie, Gabi," Hannibal's voice sounded lower, _affected_ , "what will you do with his bleeding heart, I wonder?" he asked, his annoyed tone very subdued.

Will's face twitched and he seethed at the realization that she had successfully reigned Hannibal in, and on top of that, she'd probably just been there, in her home, expecting him to show up so that she _could_ manipulate him all along. She was overconfident and it wasn't right. It was unnatural. Hannibal was not someone who could be _tamed_. Someone that rich in power and knowledge and darkness was above such pathetic games.

Hannibal was supposed to be free.

That was why Hannibal had strived to free Will…and yet…

"Charlie is just a stupid boy, Nigel, he thinks he is in love with me, it is nothing, it means nothing." She said again, lied again, because there was a tremor in her voice, subtle but noticeable to Will.

And Hannibal had to notice it too, had to know a lie when he heard it…and **yet** …

"What it means to him…" Hannibal started and then in a colder tone continued, "…and what it means for him, are two different things, my darling Gabi-…" he added and Will's eyes nearly rolled shut at how sick the endearment made him feel.

"Nigel, he is not worth killing," she started again, defending the American boy and Will decided he'd heard enough.

No more waiting. He walked into the short furnished hallway audibly and after the first step of his leather shoes on the wooden floors, Gabi fell silent.

Step…step…step…

* * *

 _I feel you up and feel you down_  
 _I need your space, I need it now_

 _Another circumstance has gone and shut you down_  
 _Another fear awakened in the fault you found._


	2. Chapter 2

_You want to know what Zeus said to Narcissus?_  
 _"You'd better watch yourself…"_

* * *

When Will came around the corner and into view of the two occupants, they were standing beside a black piano with white French doors letting in orange sunset light behind them, and Will was faced with a firearm, a Glock 17, aimed at him across the short distance by Hannibal himself. It was leveled at the height of a person more or less as tall as Will…or rather, as tall as Charlie, and all Will could do was give Hannibal –holding something as banal as a gun- an openly unimpressed once over. Not only was Will overdressed –a miracle of miracles where Hannibal was concerned- but he was displeased and disappointed and not afraid to show it.

No, he wasn't afraid of Hannibal. He'd been through far too much too be afraid of death, its harbinger or its reaper. And besides, if Hannibal was going to kill him for any reason, it would not be with a gun, he was sure of that.

Will slipped his hands casually into his pants pockets as he tracked his eyes over the gun and up to Hannibal's face in a matter of sensationally slow seconds, until his blue-green eyes leveled with Hannibal's red-brown eyes…and while he was not afraid to die, Will was _terrified_ that he wouldn't find recognition in those eyes.

He was afraid that maybe he'd been wrong, that this man was only a similar face and voice, a visual double but empty otherwise.

As it were, _Nigel_ appeared unaffected but for the fact that he blinked once absently as his adams apple bobbed, throat clicking with a tense swallow. Gabi was frowning deeply, Will wasn't looking directly at her but out of his peripheral he could tell. She was wary, scared and confused, at first just because she'd never seen Will before and now he was there in her home. But then she was frowning because _Nigel_ removed his finger from the trigger guard…and he… _Hannibal_ , lowered the Glock down to his side.

Will _felt_ it when Hannibal peaked through the cracks of _Nigel_ , but all he witnessed was a subtle raising of Hannibal's chin as he lowered his gaze to the floor and pursed his lips, considering something.

"Nigel?" Gabi said the name like a question, glancing worriedly from Hannibal to Will. "Nigel, who is this man?" she shifted on her feet, gesturing at Will, who allowed his eyes to slide to her for a brief once over and she noticed, looking nervous when he met her eyes. Will tended to make people nervous in general though, and it was an uninteresting occurrence, so he looked back at Hannibal without a second glance in her direction.

Hannibal's lips parted on a quiet, short inhale as he tilted his head slightly, raising his eyes to look into Will's again,  
"Forgive me my surprise, Will…" he paused, noticing how much Will enjoyed hearing his name said in that haunting accent and Will noticing how Hannibal seemed to enjoy saying it out aloud again after so long. Hannibal was just short of smirking as he continued, "…I never expected to see you again. It seemed highly unlikely that you would ever find me." His speech had returned to parts of the way Will remembered it, eloquent and articulate, not hurried and coarse, as when spoken by _Nigel_.

And obviously, Hannibal was as disconcerting for Gabi as _Nigel_ had been for Will, because she looked at him with confusion and an unspoken question on her lips, having no idea how to ask what she was wondering, but she'd noticed the change immediately.

Will, on the other hand, had no such problem addressing the distasteful person-suit of _Nigel_ ,

"I'm not so sure that I have…" he said evenly, smiling tightly, "…found you, I mean." He added and feigned a frown, slipping a hand from his pocket and gesturing at Hannibal, "I don't believe you and I have been introduced, **Nigel**." He said the name with distaste and even some contempt.

Gabi frowned deeper, shifting nervously as she glanced between them, not understanding the exchange.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows and huffed softly from his nose, an indication that he was amused and his tongue slipped out to wet his lips, -his prominent lips, a unique mouth that Will didn't realize he'd taken so much notice of until right then- before the older man nearly smiled with those sharp teeth of his,

"No, we haven't…" he agreed, a fondness that previously only Will had been allowed to see revealing itself plainly right then in his expression, "…but then, what need have you and I to know the masks we each wear, when we already know what lies beneath."

Will smiled genuinely now, crooked and sincere and Gabi muttered a question in Romanian, directed at Hannibal, before she added,

"Nigel, _who is this man_?" and she got his attention by grabbing his upper arm, her hand on the skin there, her fingertips just beneath the hem of the short sleeve shirt Hannibal wore.

It was familiarity, the way she touched him…

…and it hurt Will physically when Hannibal turned to her with nothing even close to irritation in his expression, but rather as if he'd only just remembered she were there,

"I apologize, Gabriella…" Gabi seemed slightly thrown by the use of her full name and Hannibal realized it, "…Gabi." He amended in _Nigel's_ tone, softer and smoother and _false_.

And when Hannibal went to touch her pretty face in what seemed to be an absent gesture, but which spoke of _sexual_ physical intimacy, -the one and only closeness that he and Hannibal had _never_ had with one another- it frayed Will's last nerve until it was exposed raw and he said slowly, warningly,

"I already have an incredibly intense desire to cut her throat," he said in an icy tone but with a flat, deathly calm expression, "best not do anything to seal her fate, **Hannibal**." Will said his name pointedly, waspish and not trying to curb it. Jealous and possessive despite not having the right to be…and so fucking what?

Hannibal had once isolated him and killed every other thing that held the threat of taking away Will's interest.

If Will chose now to return the favor, then that's how it would be.

Gabriella seemed to have had a hitch in her breathing, several actually, especially when Hannibal's hand stilled inches from her face and he regarded Will, apparently determining whether he believed Will's threat. And when Will raised an expectant eyebrow, Hannibal must have seen nothing but sincere viciousness in his eyes, because he glanced back to Gabriella and lowered his hand.

Will didn't feel satisfied, a part of him had been hoping Hannibal _would_ give him a fucking reason.

"Gabi-" Hannibal got her attention away from Will with a quiet statement of her name and she blinked, breathing heavier than before, her hand on his arm sliding away, shaking lightly as she spoke before he could go on,

"Who is _Hannibal_?" she asked with more confusion, saying the name as distastefully as Will had said _Nigel_ , and then she turned to glare at Will and somewhere under all of that prettiness, there was something ugly which revealed itself when she said, "How can you let him say that to me, why are you just-…"

"Hush, Gabi." Hannibal said somewhat sternly, calmly arresting Gabi's attention again and behind her pretty frown and dark painted eyes, the ugliness remained. It was an ugliness that made her glance at the gun in Hannibal's hand before looking at Will again, and the same ugliness that made her able to stand there and lie to Hannibal's face about the American boy…and **of course** she was ugly on the inside, because why else would Hannibal choose her and would she be with him? No one who was _pure_ could love a monster.

But even though she wasn't pure, she was not a monster either, not even close, which was why Hannibal probably favored her exterior more than her interior for how it benefitted him, after all, Hannibal loved beautiful things. Did he 'love' her though or was it just a _sex_ thing?

Will nearly blurted out that question just when Hannibal continued speaking.

To Gabi he said,

"Find the tape," and she opened her mouth to protest, "would you please, darling?" he deflected her easily with that smooth, brisk _Nigel_ way of speaking. His stance was partially Hannibal-esque but still mostly the other person he was pretending to be. Will couldn't help staring, seeing him wearing the navy blue short-sleeve button down shirt that showed off his toned arms and upper body in ways Will had never seen underneath his bespoke three piece suits, was impossibly fascinating. Hannibal seemed so far removed from that proper man Will remembered.

With the casual clothes, the gangster gun, the longer, looser hair and the informal, quick tongued speech, -and a fucking tattoo- he seemed like an everyday man, or rather, an everyday _criminal_ and it didn't fit, not for the Chesapeake Ripper to be so…typical.

Gabi placed a hand to her forehead, sniffing and pushing her hair away from her face,

"I don't even know where to start loo-"

"Charlie is an impulsive little twat, Gabi," Hannibal cut her off, a sign of his irritation even with the following small huff of laughter and a half smirk that this _Nigel-_ suit seemed to favor, "he came gallantly to be at your side in a hurry and totally _empty handed_ ," he emphasized, "and he came from here, so, I think then that the VCR would be a good place to start, don't you?" it didn't sound like a suggestion, still, with the half smile on his face and with the slight tilting of his head, it made the instruction come across gentler.

Christ, he was hard not to look at, Will felt _starved_ for the sight of him.

Gabi was having trouble not looking as well, frowning uncertainly and when her eyelashes fluttered and she looked at the floor, Will recognized her compliance. It was not so unlike his own had been once or twice when Hannibal had stared him down in the past. She made sure to look obviously at Will then, and Hannibal, who seemed to have a well of patience for her continued testing of his forbearance, stood quietly observing.

In response to her, Will bared his teeth in a silent sneer and her eyes narrowed at him. Had she claws to match Will's teeth and Hannibal had not been there, they might have went for one another's throats purely based on instinct. Metaphorically speaking of course, since in reality she seemed hyper aware of Hannibal's gun and Will was more inclined to using knives than to biting. Using teeth was Hannibal's forte. Still, it may have gotten physical.

Hannibal interrupted their glaring,

"He is my concern," he referred to Will, "he and I will discuss what needs discussing in a moment, _your_ primary concern, Gabi, is finding me that tape." That statement too, though said politely, held a warning. Whatever this tape contained, it seemed to overshadow Gabi and even Will, for its importance.

It was not only unacceptable, it was tacky, the idea that the tape Hannibal was so intent on held something he was worried about, something incriminating…or perhaps, embarrassing? Why would he care so much about it, surely whatever pathetic life he'd built around this _Nigel_ character wasn't worth that much concern.

"Hannibal." Will said, and it was only one word but it was a one word demand for the older man's complete attention. As expected, Hannibal's gaze slid from Gabi to Will as he turned his head and Will frowned at him, "What exactly do we need to discuss?" he asked irritably, his teeth clenching as he removed his hands from his pockets and held them palms up.

"Who is he talking about, Nigel, who is this _Hannibal_?" Gabi persisted, her arms folding across her stomach.

And for the first time since Will had entered the scene, Hannibal and _Nigel_ seemed to blur together.

Hannibal turned to Gabi again with his jaw tensed in what Will recognized as restrained anger and then he brought his free hand up, the hand that Will had warned him about, lightly caressing it over Gabi's cheek and ear and further up…to where his long fingers tangled into her hair and _gripped._

She made a startled gasping noise as Hannibal pulled so that her head went backward uncomfortably and her neck was bared, Hannibal stonily looking down into her blue eyes.

Will could see Hannibal in the older man's expression right then, but it was Nigel in his actions and when he spoke next, his words were a mixture of both men, polite but brusque,

"I'm going to ask you again to be quiet, do you think you could do that for me, Gabi?" he mock asked, not smiling as he added, "I think you can, darling, and I expect you will."

Gabi was both frightened and _aroused_ , Will saw fear in her tense swallow but there was also heat in her cheeks and desire in the way she wet her lips as she nodded haltingly up at Hannibal, her eyes fixed on him intently.

Hannibal's eyes would focus on you in a way that could do that, could make a person forget their sensibility…

And it aggravated and irked Will to see how that look specifically affected her, to know that she knew a _tangible_ form of intimacy with Hannibal that Will didn't, not even in a minimal way.

Will had thought he'd be kissed by Hannibal on three different occasions in the past, in those moments when Hannibal had held him that close –once, before being surgically gutted in Hannibal's kitchen, the second time, after stopping Will from shooting Peter _Bernardone_ 's lawyer and that final time atop the cliff after they'd killed The Dragon- but nothing had happened each time. And while the first time, Will had been anxious and the second time indifferent, the third time, that night after killing Dolarhyde, Will had been expecting and anticipating it.

But the kiss had never come, Hannibal had never crossed that line with him…he'd been both cautious of Will and a gentleman at the same time, courteous and decent about their bizarre courtship.

But this girl, this stupid, flakey, pretty red head, she looked as though she expected to be kissed right then.

She looked as though she wanted it and hated that she did at the same time.

She was conflicted and ungrateful to have ever had it in the first place.

Will had failed for a long time to realize what Hannibal was offering him, but now he knew. And yet here she was, having had the comfort of Hannibal's darkness and now still being willing to throw it away for _Charlie_.

But then, perhaps her _Nigel_ was not the same –treacherously magnetic person - as his Hannibal had been.

"Intentions, Will…" Hannibal answered, making Will refocus on those eyes now looking at him, "…we will need to revisit, yet again, the issues you have with making decisive choices." He spoke casually, somewhere between _Nigel_ and Hannibal, but he didn't sound as though he was looking forward to talking.

Will raised his eyebrows, feeling upset over Hannibal's words,

"My unpredictability used to intrigue you." He responded, biting back the maligning words that were trying to crawl out of his throat. The words he wanted to spit at Hannibal about leniency and worthiness and the lying bitch he held in hand presently, the bitch who didn't deserve his time of day, while Hannibal stood there wanting to discuss Will's place beside him after the bloodshed and murders between them?

It was ridiculous.

At least the bitch was finally silent, body tense, red in her face and worried, but gloriously silent.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at Will, wearing a stoic poker face, just like old times,

"Unpredictability and indecisiveness are entirely different sets of behavior, Will. One can be capricious inside of a commitment, but one cannot be ambivalent in the same scenario. Indecisiveness renders any claim of commitment invalid." Hannibal paused to give Will a quick once over, "A fact I've long known, but was reminded of on more than one occasion by you." His tone went from business-like to completely cold as he looked at Will from a side angle, keeping his hand firmly in Gabi's hair.

Will couldn't help the unsettling and hollow grin that stole across his face, his stomach turning itself into knots,

"My…inten-tions…hah…ahah…" Will practically laughed the word out and then huffed a few more disbelieving sounds as he dragged a hand down over his mouth, wiping his smile away before gesturing toward Hannibal, "…you didn't know my intentions at the very end, Hannibal, you assum-…"

"I assumed I could not put myself in a position to trust you again," Hannibal cut Will off without even a hint of apology in his expression, "you set me up to be _changed_ by The Dragon within undefined parameters with an open-ended outcome. And then you turned against Francis on a whim, taking your place at my side, in what felt to me like a final obstacle, overcome," he paused here and Will watched him clench his jaw, "only to betray both yourself and me **again** , when you pulled us over the cliff, plummeting us to what should have been our deaths." He finished coldly, glancing briefly at Gabi who was starting to look distressed, "I saved us despite your protean nature and spared your life despite my better judgment…" another pause, a tense swallow, "…my inconvenient compassion for you yet again intervened and I gave you another gift, I left you with your life, even after you betrayed me again, Will." He sighed now, whatever tension he'd built up leaving his body as he lowered his gaze to the floor, "Perhaps I've fostered a pattern of behavior in you with my unintentional mercy and reward and that is how you've wound up here." He sounded distant in thought over the subject.

Will's mouth was open, just about gaping and his breathing had increased at hearing Hannibal's words, all true if you didn't factor in Will's justifications for everything he'd ever did. But there would be no end to this misery if Will allowed himself to defend his actions in the past years. None of that mattered anymore. There needed to be a permanent truce. There were no obstacles left on Will's side and there was so much to say, so much to explain about what Will knew he wanted and felt for Hannibal, but with him being so cold and speaking to Will with such finality…

Will felt nauseous with unease when Hannibal looked at Gabi, his eyes tracking over her strained face,

"I found myself with no room left for forgiveness, Will, not even of the deleterious kind. So I locked you, as I knew you should be, away in my memory palace, in a room I haven't visited in a while. In it is the last moment I had with you, bathed in black blood, and it is the only one I needed for closure to the years of my life I gave for you." Hannibal was still looking at Gabi, an unreadable expression on his face that made her tremble visibly, her neck still bared and her eyes still fixed on him as he spoke, "And I have since moved on, I've chosen simpler, more easily attainable pleasures this time." he finished evenly as he gently let go of her hair.

She immediately took a step back and sucked in a shaken, relieved breath, carding a hand through her hair at the back of her head, glaring at Hannibal and then at Will, who clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at Hannibal,

"Empty pleasures and simple _minds_ ," he spat, giving Gabi a distasteful once over as Hannibal regarded him again, "Or actually, a perfidious mind is a better description, since in the same breath she used to say she loves you, she was just as easily breathing a lie."

"You've lied to me." Hannibal responded quietly, an unmistakable sharpness to his tone as he placed his gun into the back of his pants casually.

"I _survived_ you." Will stressed the word, saying it confidently and meaning it before he went on, emotion seeping into his voice, "I challenged you, I suffered you, I craved, bled, dreamed and mourned you, I fucking _changed_ you Hannibal…" his voice turned threatening then as he took several steps closer, "… **you** are **mine**." He said with his own finality, stopping in the doorway of the room they were in.

Hannibal's eyes darkened, his head and body turning more toward Will and for a moment as they stared at one another, Gabi might as well have not existed.

And Will was not done,

"You want to know my _intentions_?" he asked with a bite to the last word, "What about _her_ intentions, Hannibal?" Will made a sarcastic noise of amusement, because there was no way that Hannibal didn't know, "She's as likely to leave you for _Charlie_ as she is to take her next breath." Will finished, grimacing in her general direction.

Gabi gasped quietly then and it was almost as if she was making Will's point for him.

"He is lying, Ni-ugh-…" her denial was silenced by Hannibal's hand seizing her throat, his entire demeanor was different now, Will's words had obviously affected him,

"I believe I asked you to be quiet, Gabriella, it is rude to keep interrupting." Hannibal spoke to her in a deadly voice that Will knew, the voice of a devil that paraded around as the man, Hannibal Lecter.

Will felt goosebumps rise all over his body at the sound of Hannibal's true voice.

Gabi was trying to grasp the large hand cutting off her air supply, frowning worriedly at Hannibal. Will found it curious that she didn't struggle more, she didn't even try to kick or hit Hannibal, almost as if she had been in that situation before and knew that fighting back would only get her properly hurt.

Hannibal ignored her,

"Tell me, Will, if I am yours, then in that same vein, with that same conviction, are you then mine?" his tone was still glacial, his eyes reptilian, as he looked away from Gabi to watch Will.

Will immediately opened his mouth to say yes, but then he stopped, because what was there to convince Hannibal he wasn't lying. Will, after all, was the only person who was capable of deceiving Hannibal with lies.

Hannibal was purposely overlooking Gabi's lies, giving her the benefit of doubt or something equally stupid, but he would not do the same for Will, never, ever again, Will had played him one too many times.

Gabi was gripping Hannibal's wrist tightly now, turning bright red in her face and her increased struggles for breath regained Hannibal's attention. Gabi must have seen something in his face that scared her, because her eyes widened and she tried to hit Hannibal in the face suddenly…but he caught her wrist well before she came close enough to land the blow and her closed fist opened slowly, her fingers twitching as Hannibal squeezed her delicate wrist painfully.

Her feet left the ground then.

But even as she started flailing her legs in a panic, red face becoming purplish, Will could tell that Hannibal was going to let her go. The distressed pleading wheezes and silent mouthed attempts of _'Nigel'_ from her bluish lips had arrested his attention away from Will.

Will felt _furious_ when Hannibal did in fact release his hand from her throat a moment later.

He didn't hold on to her though, not like he'd done after he'd gutted Will…and she didn't stay close either, throwing herself away from him and falling to sit on the nearest surface, which happened to be the piano bench. It rocked slightly under her fallen weight as she held her throat and gasped into a coughing fit, taking in air too quickly.

"You've become too lenient…" Will grimaced as he watched her, "…too soft." He slid his eyes back to Hannibal.

"Gabriella is exempt from grievous violence." He mumbled, warning her with a final look to stay quiet before meeting Will's eyes again. Will's face twitched and he scoffed,

"Permanently?" he asked, disbelieving.

Hannibal tipped his head, not sparing the coughing girl another glance,

"Consequentially."

"Oh, what then, is it that, if she is loyal-…"

"She lives."

"…and if she forsakes you."

"She dies."

Will scoffed again, shaking his head, clenching and unclenching his fists,

"God would never look at things in such a banal manner, Hannibal." Will subtly mocked him, remembering their conversations from therapy about Hannibal's ongoing rivalry with an immoderate God.

Hannibal narrowed his black eyes at Will after that comment and the sight of it was actually more than a little disconcerting. Will enjoyed it nevertheless.

Gabi was wheezing, shaken and staring up at Hannibal now, her blue eyes wide in fear and disbelief.

Will glanced at her briefly, curious,

"And if she manages to kill you?" he asked with a frowning smile.

"She's incapable." Hannibal said confidently, disinterestedly.

Will raised his eyebrows, he couldn't question it, he assumed Hannibal was speaking from experience.

This girl may have had the opportunity and let it pass because she couldn't follow through.

Will had been there more than once.

Will looked at her for a longer moment then and she looked at him too, blinking at him with lightly wet eyes. Will hated to think it, but he was genuinely concerned that whatever Hannibal felt for her might actually be serious. And it was sad that it came down to such a pathetic question in the end, but Will saw no other option. Swallowing his pride, he looked at Hannibal and his upper lip curled when he asked,

"You would choose her…over me?" he sounded disgusted by the prospect, because he was.

Hannibal stared back at him for a few long seconds before he looked at Gabi without answering Will,

"The tape, Gabriella." He reminded her casually and her blue eyes snapped to him.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow as if to ask if she had something to say.

But she'd finally realized the seriousness of her predicament, perhaps had finally realized just how consequential her survival was after Hannibal had stated as much. She nodded, getting to her feet on shaking legs and running her hands through her red hair as she crossed between them and walked through a single door leading into what looked like a cluttered office.

Will looked at Hannibal at the same time as he glanced at Will. Gabi was not out of Hannibal's peripheral sight because the VCR was apparently right there, just inside the door of the office, where he could still see her. Will listened as she sniffed and clicked a button, the noises carrying in the quiet house followed by the sound of a tape being ejected.

He couldn't hold his anger in a second longer by that point,

"I'll fucking _kill_ her." Will stated with a breathy laugh, hands relaxed at his sides, he was totally serious.

He heard Gabi drop the cassette she'd just retrieved with a clatter and Hannibal turned to look at her again. Will heard her sniffing more loudly now and he imagined her blue eyes were starting to gloss over with unshed tears.

Hannibal blinked from Gabi to Will,

"Would you really?" he sounded amused.

"You don't believe me?" Will raised an eyebrow, and when Hannibal looked at her that time, Will knew it was because Gabi was looking at Hannibal. Will spoke in an icy tone as he informed everyone listening, "I'll gouge her fucking eyes out first." He didn't know what her reaction was, but Hannibal looked amused, Gabi sounding panicked when she breathed out,

"Nigel?" in a distressed and uncertain tone.

"And then I'll cut her tongue out." Will added seriously, still staring at Hannibal.

Gabi had previously been more confident, bolder, but now that she was uncertain of whether Hannibal would keep her safe, she'd lost the bravado. Will was just about able to hear the sob that she let out.

She honestly wasn't a killer, but…she was definitely a liar.

Hannibal's lips quirked up at one corner as he watched Gabi,

"Play the tape, Gabi. I need to be sure it's the one our dimwitted boy, Charlie, said he'd found." He spoke in his _Nigel_ -esque way, as though Will hadn't threatened her life and as if Gabi wasn't crying right then.

It really pissed Will off,

" **Hannibal**." He said sharply, raising his voice, despising that he wasn't being taken seriously.

But all Hannibal did was give him a look much like the one he'd given Gabi earlier, warning him to be quiet.

Will felt himself creeping up to the high edge of his patience end, while Gabi was doing as told, no more hesitation in her movements, Will could hear her reinsert the tape, rewind it back.

Hannibal was listening as Gabi set the tape to play, his head turned away from Will, apparently side lining him over a video tape and a girl. Will was reminded of Alana, who'd slept with Hannibal and Bedelia, who'd lived as his wife and those thoughts dredged up the feelings of that night on the cliff when he'd thought Hannibal would kiss him, _should have_ kissed him and he had been disappointed. Maybe if Hannibal had kissed him, he wouldn't have pulled them off that fucking cliff in the first place.

Will clenched his eyes shut for a moment, banishing the useless 'ifs' and 'maybes' from his mind.

Presently, Will's new world, his actual reality, the one he'd christened with the warmth of Francis Dolarhyde's blood and that he had seen reflected clear as day in Hannibal's eyes on that cliff, was starting to tear apart.

He could hear the ripping in his ears, the sound morphing into a vacuous, cacophonous sound not unlike the one he'd heard in the rushing of wind passing over their bodies as they fell to the ocean.

His breath hitched and he opened his eyes again, shaking his head once and running a hand over his face to clear his head. He couldn't go there, Will couldn't go off that cliff again…he could **not** let Hannibal go.

He couldn't wake up and go to sleep alone in the world anymore.

He needed to make Hannibal _see_.

Yes, he'd taken Hannibal over the edge with him, literally, but Hannibal had done the same to him in different ways, all equally as violent and painful and dangerous. He needed to get the fuck over it.

The only question left was how could Will prove to Hannibal that he **meant** it.

Will was there, but it wasn't enough, the scenario wasn't new, he'd found Hannibal in Europe before.

It was different this time though, because Will wasn't there to forgive, he wasn't there to betray, this time he was there to merge, he was there to give Hannibal himself in totality, flesh and blood and bone and brain…and heart.

He wanted to say it, all of it, everything he'd been feeling…the _longing_ …but Hannibal wasn't listening.

There was the sound of gun shots on the tape and Hannibal's expression soured slightly, his lips thinning as whatever he'd thought was on the cassette had just been confirmed, he'd found what he'd been looking for.

Gabi was obviously watching the tape too and Will heard her gasp at whatever she was seeing.

Will's mind was elsewhere though, racing to find a solution to his own problem of how to convince Hannibal he was different now. It had to be a game changer, it had to be something real, because Hannibal needed to know Will wasn't faking…

…and it was when Will once again flashed back to that night on the bluff, remembering how real the feelings had been between them, that an idea came to him. He started to walk toward Hannibal before he'd even fully thought it through. All he knew was that his words were not getting through to Hannibal and he was at the point of no return anyway, so what was one more risk.

Hannibal turned to watch him as he approached, almost unnoticeably he changed the stance of his feet,

"I advise you not to do anything we'll both regret, Will." He warned evenly as he positioned himself subtly for any violent attempt he perceived Will would make on him.

Will only had two words for him as he covered the remaining distance between them,

"Fuck you." He snapped a second before grabbing Hannibal by the back of his neck and at the same time tilting his head up just so, pressing his mouth to Hannibal's in a firm, well placed kiss. No more hesitating.

He was only just shorter than Hannibal so the angle wasn't difficult to land and Will held his mouth there, eyes half closed, exhaling heavily through his nose, entirely aware of the knife being held by Hannibal to the side of his abdomen, directly above the starting point of the scar Hannibal had given him years ago, the 'smile'.

Hannibal wasn't pulling away or pushing him off though and him holding the knife there didn't make Will want to pull away either, it actually had the opposite effect, so Will pressed closer and closed his eyes completely. At first Hannibal was unmoving, he didn't even breathe for a few seconds, but when Will pressed closer and allowed their lips to settle more naturally -Will's top lip sliding to fit between Hannibal's- the older man exhaled steadily and slowly against Will's face through his nose, relaxing.

His breathing was a calm contrast to Will's own shaken breaths.

Obviously, Will had never kissed a man before, but it didn't shock him that he enjoyed the feeling of Hannibal's lips against his own, warm and damp and soft, the obvious masculine fragrance filling his senses was a new experience but not a bad one. Will had been starved for contact for over a year and the only person he'd wanted near him was Hannibal, so it felt right, it felt _good_. And while Hannibal's clothes weren't up to standard and his hair wasn't quaffed, he smelled as good as he always had wearing the same expensive cologne Will remembered.

He was still _Hannibal_. No matter what person-suit he wore.

Gabi was quiet but for her shaken breathing and the knife Hannibal held was sharply poking Will through his expensive designer shirt, scraping against the fine scar tissue. And Hannibal still wasn't pushing him away, but he also made no move to embrace Will.

So Will drew back slightly, about an inch, his blue eyes fixed onto Hannibal's inscrutably dark eyes. They were breathing against one another's mouths, Hannibal's still calm, Will's still uneven. Seeing no reaction or change in Hannibal created a bubble of panic in Will's chest as he considered the possibility that he'd read Hannibal all wrong over the years, that he'd misunderstood Bedelia telling him that Hannibal was in love with him.

He worried then, in that critical moment so close and finally realized, that maybe Hannibal's love for him was –or had been- **platonic**.

Will's eyebrows drew together in concern and he brought his other hand up to join the one holding the back of Hannibal's neck. Hannibal's hair was splayed across his forehead and Will glanced from the strands of silvery brown hair up and then down, looking from Hannibal's eyes to his mouth before he breathed out,

"Hannibal?" it was a question, quiet and saying so much more than just the dangerous man's name. Will couldn't help that his tone carried some desperation, he just so badly needed to know that he wasn't wrong, that his empathy and understanding of Hannibal hadn't totally failed him, because even before Bedelia had said anything, Will had _suspected_ something of that nature about Hannibal's feelings for him.

' _Was I wrong?'_ he swallowed tensely, wetting his lips that were an inch from Hannibal's.

He didn't want to be wrong.

Hannibal's clenched jaw revealed a hint of tension as his eyes searched Will's face for whatever it was he needed to find there in order to _believe._ And Will bared his feelings, he didn't mask anything as he slid his hands down to grip handfuls of Hannibal's shirt front, keeping him close, eyes and body and even the knife digging into him, stubborn and daring.

Hannibal slowly brought the knife away and then up so that the point of it was settled against the soft underside of Will's jaw and Will held his breath…but he also tilted his head backwards, maintaining eye contact as he offered up his vulnerable neck, because this was it, there was no way he could go back to his old life and just as he felt Hannibal's death belonged to him, he felt his own death belonged to Hannibal.

If Hannibal wanted to slit his throat, while it felt anticlimactic in its crassness, Will would accept it.

But Hannibal didn't keep the blade there, he brought it higher and Will felt the tip of the knife touch against the two inch scar that the Dragon had left on the right side of his face. Hannibal quietly considered the raised, healed over flesh there with a light pinch between his eyebrows and his mouth pulling down at the corners in distaste. Because of course, no one besides Hannibal should have ever scarred him.

For a moment Will thought that Hannibal might find the scar off putting, because his neatly kept heard could only hide it so much, but then he was surprised out of his worries, when a smile stole across Hannibal's face, showing his sharp teeth that had been visible on rare occasion in the past,

"Even now…you still manage to surprise me." He said quietly, his tone closer to personal, as Will remembered it and he found himself grinning back, all teeth and a little unhinged, –but lovely in Hannibal's eyes- he exhaled an amused –and relieved- noise. But then he became serious again, raising an eyebrow and gripping Hannibal's shirt tighter, looking straight into his eyes as he confessed,

"I wanted to wake up from that fall…with you still **there** , Hannibal." He breathed out and Hannibal's smile faded fast, his eyes downcast and his jaw clenching. Will wasn't discouraged, "It was my _final_ denial, my last moment of being alive in between the spaces of you and…everything that wasn't you, and I can't survive there anymore, I can't survive outside of…you." He couldn't explain any better right then, but he would, if Hannibal would just leave with him.

Leave Gabi and the tape behind.

Belatedly remembering Gabi, Will glanced over to find she looked scared and edgy but mostly confused as she watched them with a deep frown on her face. It was amazing she hadn't tried to run away…but then, they were in her house. Another, more likely possibility though, was that she didn't have anywhere to run to, nowhere to hide either.

Will looked back at Hannibal who was still contemplating the ground,

"Leave with me." He bit out, "Leave _whatever_ this is, behind you."

Hannibal ticked his jaw to the side, eyes sliding over to where Gabi stood with another warning to stay put,

"The tape is incriminating, I cannot just leave it."

Will nearly guffawed. He suppressed it, but he couldn't help scoffing,

"Incriminating?" he sounded incredulous, "Hannibal…" he huffed out a laugh as he let go of Hannibal's shirt,

"…you're on The FBI's Ten Most Wanted list as well as being one of Europe's most prolific s-…" he stopped talking and glanced at Gabi, who stood eyes-wide, gaping and looking at Hannibal like he was a stranger. Will decided not to get too in detail about who Hannibal was in front of her and instead said, "What do you care about some tape that could incriminate you in some petty crime?"

Hannibal looked intensely into his eyes, an old emotion, one that was reserved only for Will and was also just reserved in general, seeping into his expression,

"I left that life behind." He said shortly.

"For what?" Will asked irritably, "For a gun-toting, gangster life that revolves around a fake red head who can only offer you superficial interest and false loyalty?" Will frowned, looking over Hannibal's expression and trying to discern what the man was thinking.

When he'd first met Hannibal he'd been unable to read the older man, but once Hannibal had let him in, there was no shutting Will out again, he saw things in every nuance and micro movement now, even when Hannibal didn't want him to,

"Why, why would you choose this life…this girl?" he asked the question aloud but he was internalizing the scenario, he was dissecting the possibilities, thinking how he knew Hannibal would think.

' _Why would you choose a criminal life in which you'd be exposed to reckless people, why would you abandon your privacy, your erudition and pedantry? Why would you no longer need a high quality façade to hide behind…how could you change all that and still be…'_

And as he watched Hannibal trailing his eyes over Will's face before licking his lips, trapping his tongue between sharp teeth, all with a sort of absence, the sight inspired the answer to Will's questions. His eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in confusion –and a degree of upset-,

"You've…stopped." He breathed out.

Hannibal's eyes moved sharply back to his and the older man didn't need to confirm or deny anything, because Will just knew.

Hannibal was no longer cannibalizing.

The information was staggering, but more unbelievable was how Will found he felt about it. If someone had told Will fourteen months ago that the idea of Hannibal no longer being a cannibal would _disappoint_ and _upset_ him, he'd have laughed hysterically. But now, standing and looking into formerly maroon eyes that appeared an ordinary dark brown, having lost their glint of blood-lust, Will felt winded.

He exhaled shakily, still aware of how close he stood to Hannibal but newly recognizing the weight on either side of his waist to be Hannibal's hands and _liking_ it. Will placed a hand on Hannibal's forearm in a light grasp, surprised by how easy it was for him to fall into the unknown physical touches with the older man. He was frowning though, now trying to figure out a reason for Hannibal stopping,

"Why? Why would you…" he trailed off when Hannibal's hands tightened on his waist, almost exactly as they had that night on the bluff and Will slowly closed his eyes and exhaled, because he knew the answer, and he felt parts guilty and parts smug, "…because of **me**?" he asked quietly, but he didn't need to, it was obvious.

When he opened his eyes again, Hannibal was watching him and he simply inclined his head,

"I let it go…when I let you go, Will." He admitted quietly, accent thick and his lips slightly shiny with wetness, a touch red.

Kissable. Another thought Will would never have believed he'd associate with Hannibal.

He'd once found Alana to be kissable…and now he saw that so was Hannibal Lecter, just in a different, more intense way. A way that would need passion and teeth and lust and deviancy, no room to breathe or think.

The idea of _properly_ kissing Hannibal, of surrendering to that mouth, came with an intense feeling of urgency…and macabre.

And Will smiled, his eyes on Hannibal's mouth, because he was tragically, desperately eager to taste death,

"I did change you." He stated quietly.

Hannibal swallowed audibly and quietly conceded,

"Yes, you did." His eyes lowered to Will's mouth as well before he leaned in and placed a quick, soft and almost sweet peck of a kiss to Will's belatedly puckered lips.

A cruel kiss. Too quick and too chaste.

When Hannibal went to draw back Will brought his hand up and grabbed Hannibal's shoulder, a handful of the older man's shirt, he was willing to ask for what he wanted,

"Hann-…" but he didn't have to because he was cut off by Hannibal's mouth connecting with his, open-mouthed and aligned at a slight angle so that he was able to deftly lick into Will's mouth once, slowly, before closing his mouth into a pucker over Will's responsive mouth easily, their lips damp and sensually affixed for a few seconds in which all Will could do was breath unevenly through his nose, before parting his lips to accept Hannibal's next kiss.

Will was vaguely aware of Gabi gasping and then breathing out a disbelieving ' _Jesus, what are you…Nigel?'_ in a sincerely baffled and disturbed tone.

Will wondered what kind of person-suit _Nigel_ was meant to be that she sounded so thoroughly confused and uneasy about what she was seeing…but he didn't wonder for long because Hannibal's mouth on his derailed any sparking trains of thought.

His hot mouth, the wet kiss, the sharpness of his teeth raking over Will's bottom lip as Hannibal allowed him reprieve to breathe for only a second before he assaulted his mouth once more, pressing their noses together and melding their mouths vertically, a new angle, different slide of their tongues, Will frowning, dazed, as Hannibal's hands grasped white knuckled fistfuls of Will's shirt at his waist.

Hannibal tasted like cigarettes and some kind of fruit laced alcohol, his cologne was as alluring and pleasant as ever, he'd always been broader and taller than Will, but it seemed more pronounced in that moment, with his chest against Will's, firm with muscle and his large hands gripping Will's lean waist, all that…as well as his skilled kissing. Hannibal was addicting and Will was sinking and spinning.

When Hannibal ended the kiss with the edges of his teeth, Will made a noise very close to a groan of irritation –he hadn't known he could ever want Hannibal so badly in _that_ way- and the older man remained standing close, breathing calmly as he smirked subtly at Will's state. Smug bastard.

Despite his smile, his voice was deadly calm and perfectly predatory, perfectly Hannibal, when he spoke next,

"Remain where you are, Gabriella, and you will live to see tomorrow." He averted his gaze to the side where she stood. His words brought Will back to his senses and he inhaled slowly as he took a half a step back from Hannibal in order to look to where Gabi was, or rather, had been. Presently she was nearer to the other exit of the office which led out into the foyer.

She'd apparently finally decided to try and leave –smart enough at least, she wasn't holding the tape. But she clearly had no concept of the kind of predator Hannibal was if she thought he'd miss her trying to slip away. She was a mouse with her tail caught in a big cat's paw and he was simply toying with her.

Will looked at Hannibal, first at his defined jaw, lightly stubbly, over his prominent lips set in a straight line, no longer smirking and then over his finely shaped nose, up to his dark eyes, Will was just taking him in, noticing that his posture was proper now and his entire demeanor was no longer _Nigel_ **at all**.

Will grinned, feeling triumph and anticipation prickle pleasantly under his skin at having reached Hannibal, having brought the man, the beast…the devil, back to him. He would never doubt Hannibal again, Will knew himself now. This was what he wanted and needed and he delighted in the thought of their future as he pursed his lips in a smile and savored the taste of Hannibal's mouth, turning to properly face Gabi as his smile split into something more intimidating.

Gabi was paler than was natural, she was shaking on the spot, frowning, confused and terrified by her uncertainty of what she was witnessing. Will too, had crossed over, he was in predator mode and he found himself raising a calm eyebrow at her when he informed her as The Dragon had once informed him,

"Don't run…I'll catch you." He said the latter part sounding amused.

And he would catch her, definitely by her throat, and he'd bring her back to Hannibal as a gift…a bloody offering to show his honesty, to show that he'd accepted his nature, a promise to Hannibal that he wasn't going anywhere.

She was looking at Will now and her fear intensified. Will was watching her like a hawk and Hannibal was smiling again, mouth closed and curved just so, he was mildly amused by Will's words and he was looking as close to himself as was possible in that moment.

Gabi's lips trembled as she took a chance speaking,

"N-nigel, I don't un-derstand." She breathed out, her eye makeup a running mess.

"Give me the tape, Gabriella." Hannibal didn't seem to care about explaining, not anymore.

Will clenched his jaw, irritated at Hannibal's insistence on having the stupid tape, despite that though, he remained quiet as Hannibal continued,

"There is a matter of settling this with Darko, the consequences of not doing so will be fatal for you." He elaborated to Gabi and Will wondered who the fuck _Darko_ was and why Hannibal felt the need to help this person settle whatever this was. He hated even more that Gabi was probably going to survive this.

He felt jealous again and it reheated his ire.

Gabi blinked, tears sliding over her cheeks and causing her thick mascara and eye makeup to run even more,  
"You are n-not…Nigel…what-…"

"Of the matters that are relevant and of importance at this time, Gabriella, that is not one of them." He cut her off, continually using her full name, remaining cold and unfamiliar to her but warming Will with recognition and relief more and more every second.

She took a deep breath then and shuffled a few steps nearer, stopping at the VCR and ejecting the tape again before removing it…and then she stayed where she was, glancing at the tape she held in both of her hands before looking at Hannibal with a watery frown,

"W-what about…about…Charlie?" she was an idiot to ask, this girl clearly just wasn't _getting it_ and Will scoffed, looking at Hannibal after half rolling his eyes,

"Of all the things important and relevant, Hannibal, she asks about _Charlie_." It was said sardonically, a version of an 'I told you so' and Hannibal gave him a short reprimanding look that held an all too familiar fondness he'd developed for Will's smart ass comments in their time together…

…and Will near melted under that look, huffing out an involuntary laugh of _delight_ and slipping his hands into his pockets as he deferred by stepping aside to allow Hannibal to deal with the stupid girl.

Hannibal regarded her then with slightly raised eyebrows, a condescending look even she would recognize as being intended and obvious,

"I'm afraid young Charlie is fated to die, Gabriella."

She shook her head, frowning and frowning so much,

"But why w-would you kill him when…when…" she glanced at Will and had the nerve to look bitter,

"When what?" Hannibal prompted, Will standing at his side quietly but ready to act if need be.

She inhaled shakily and raised her arms at her sides, glancing from Will to Hannibal,

"He's asked you to…to leave with him, Nig-…" she contemplates the name, pursing her lips briefly but then settles on it anyway, "…Nigel, and forgive me if I misunderstood," she says again in a _bitter_ tone as if she'd been wronged, "but considering how you kissed _him_ just now," bitter, bitter, "I thought it was obvious you were accepting his offer."

Will glanced at Hannibal when the man huffed softly, apparently amused,

"I'm genuinely surprised to find you jealous and even scornful in this matter, Gabi, when up until the point this afternoon when I gave young Charlie a makeover, you were content with falsely calling me your ex-husband."

Will blanched,

"You're _married_ to her?" he snapped, turning to look at Hannibal with disgust and _hurt_.

Hannibal looked at him and parted his lips for a few seconds before answering,

"Nigel married her." He said nonchalantly, and when he looked at Gabi again, there was none of the fondness he'd had in his gaze or tone earlier visible anymore, he was completely detached, "No different than when I was husband to Lydia Fell as Roman."

Will exhaled irritably and sharply cut one hand through the air between them,

"No, no, very _different_ , Hannibal, you weren't _fucking_ Bedelia." He said brusquely. Hannibal looked at him then, contemplatively, probably wondering how Will was able to determine that fact so surely. Will decided to oblige him with an answer as Gabi watched on, completely lost, "I spent some time as Bedelia's patient in the wake of her courageous _recovery_ from her drug induced ' _Stockholm Syndrome'_ ," Will made air quotes, "time spent with you." and Gabi made a confused sound. They both ignored her, "And we talked about you-…"

"Naturally." Hannibal quipped wryly.

"…-and I read her like an open book." Will raised an eyebrow, "She was oozing acrimony and envy behind her stone-angel face, sterile veneer and sedate cadence, bleeding her wonder, trying so hard to understand why you wanted _me_ and not _her_." He smiled grimly, remembering wetness in Bedelia's eyes when they spoke of Hannibal being in 'love' with him, "And in all that time, the only thing she had to boast about was that she'd been with you _behind the veil_ , as she liked to put it." He glanced over the sharp angles of Hannibal's face, not admitting to having traded his own jealous barbs with Bedelia, "She would have tried to needle at me about it if she'd been with you sexually, but she never did, and I understood it clearly in her as she already knew it about me, that neither of us had ever been with you that way." Will glanced at Gabi cuttingly, and she quickly looked away, _**blushing**_.

Hannibal stared at Will for a moment, looking somewhere between smug –probably entertained by the two of them essentially fighting over him- and pleased –because Will was bothered by Hannibal's sexual history in that he was excluded from it- but he didn't comment. Hannibal confirmed and conceded to Will's explanation with a courteous nod and then he tilted his head and said evenly,

"Will…"

But Will already knew what he'd say, that it was neither the time nor the place to go into all that. He made a frustrated noise,

"Just forget it." And he brought his hands up to wave away whatever placation Hannibal was going to try and apply to the situation, shaking his head and repocketing his hands, "It doesn't even matter, **none** of **this** matters…just…" he gestured at Gabriella, "…get this over with so we can _leave._ " He said in a tone that was pretty close to demanding.

Hannibal looked fondly amused and all of those familiar looks just made Will feel like he was in _love_ a little more every minute. And the word 'love' was the only one that fit for him.

" **Who are you?** " Gabi breathed out, apropos of nothing that was her business, and when Will made himself look from Hannibal to her, she looked perplexed, eyes teary and focused on Hannibal.

Will sighed, exasperated,

"He is no one you could understand nor could you ever actually deserve." Will said before he could help himself and then, on the spot, he decided to approach her, no longer interested in dragging this out or waiting on Hannibal.

Gabi took a step back but Will knew she wouldn't run, she was too frightened to actually flee and so he was upon her very quickly, stopping to stand a foot away, he looked down into her wet eyes. He'd never been particularly inclined to hurt females physically, so he did little more than grab her wrist in a firm grip, bringing her hand in which she held the tape, up between them, before he snatched it from her trembling fingers.

She flinched and released it without hesitation.

He let her go and she back stepped, sobbing anew and holding her wrist as if he'd hurt her.

Will stayed where he was as he lifted the tape to read the sharpied title,

"Cubbies win world series, 1995." Will said aloud and looked at Hannibal, entirely confident in taking his eyes off of the trembling girl just beside him, he frowned and Hannibal raised an eyebrow, not approaching but extending his hand in request for the tape,

"Gabriella's father was a nonsensical old man with little to live for besides his daughter and this single tape, which kept me in check, as it were, and also far away from Gabriella." He glanced at Gabi as Will approached and handed him the cassette, "I had been waiting quite a while for the day Victor finally dropped dead." He said casually and she sobbed again but Hannibal was looking at the tape he now held. "I cannot imagine why he would name it such a thing," Hannibal paused and looked up, looked at Gabi again, "but perhaps Charlie would know." He said with a hint of sarcasm, "After all, he seemed to know a great deal about things he ought not to have."

Gabi looked uncomfortable and livid, she was positively glaring at Will now. It amused Will when he looked at her again and found her seething at him and so he smiled at her in that unsettling way that he'd come into quite naturally, post meeting Hannibal. She swallowed audibly, still angry but also still afraid and Will, feeling petty, he raised his hand to run it lightly down the length of Hannibal's arm, from his short shirt sleeve to his wrist, Will's fingers catching on an expensive, thick linked bracelet the older man wore,

"You have the tape, Hannibal, now we leave." He intentionally stated and didn't request, because there was a fine line he was aware of, that he could walk with regards to Hannibal's leniency about his impoliteness.

Hannibal gave him a side-long once over, before he looked at him in the eye again and gave Will an imperceptible nod, a subtle acquiescence. He then handed Will the cassette to hold as he reached into his pocket with his other hand and brought out his cell phone.

Will frowned and so did Gabi. But while Will was confused, Gabi was distressed,

"No, Nigel, **please** don't." She pleaded and was brave enough to take a few steps forward toward the older man, only stopping when Will shot her a warning look. She shifted on the spot where she stopped, looking angrily at Will and then desperately to Hannibal, "Don't call Darko here." She said with a shaking voice, "Tell him you have the tape, tell him you'll destroy it…or, or meet him away from here, just…don't…"

Hannibal smirked, unlocking the phone he held,

"Expecting Charlie to pop in for a visit?" he asked knowingly.

She gasped, it was involuntary and such a pathetic give away that Will had to roll his eyes.

"Nigel **please** …" she pleaded again but Hannibal was focused on his phone.

He raised his eyebrows after staring at the device for a few seconds,

"It seems that Charlie won't be stopping by after all," he stated, holding the phone out to Will and nodding once. Will only needed a split second to understand what Hannibal wanted before he took it from the older man, "Darko has texted me to let me know he's waiting for Charlie at the youth hostel…" he informed calmly as Will switched the phone off and dropped it to the floor with a clatter, "…that doesn't sound very good for Charlie, does it Gabriella?" Will punctuated the question by bringing the heel of his Italian leather shoe down on the cell phone, once and then again and again, until it was cracked and broken in a few pieces.

Gabi was tearing up again, glancing between Will and Hannibal miserably.

Hannibal sighed, reaching out and gently stroking the back of his knuckles along Will's jaw line and Will shivered involuntarily, pleasantly, just barely managing to keep his eyes from fluttering closed, and having them open he was able to see the naked affection Will had missed seeing for so long in Hannibal's eyes,

"Do you have a car?" he asked quietly and Will nodded quickly.

And when Hannibal held Will's jaw with just the right amount of firmness and leaned in less than half the way between their faces, Will didn't fail the test, or miss the opportunity, he leaned in the rest of the way and eagerly allowed Hannibal to kiss him.

Once, softly and slowly, their lips dry and sticking.

Hannibal drew back then, visibly pleased as he wet his lips and shifted his hand to rest firmly on the back of Will's neck, turning to look at Gabi,

"I'll tell you what, Gabriella, I will let Darko know that I have the tape and that I am leaving Bucharest again, thereby absolving you of any further dealings with him." Hannibal offered and Will clenched his fingers against the tape he held but the weight of Hannibal's touch kept him quiet, barely, "He will not seek you out and as long as he doesn't know you've seen the tape, nor will he endeavor to kill you." he said with a smile, "Darko walks a fine line between being a gentleman and an uncouth swine, as you well know, but you also know he only acts violently when threatened or provoked." He finished and Will felt the pressure of his hand pushing Will in the direction of Gabi and in passing her, the exit.

Will's blood instantly sang in his veins.

 **Finally** , they were leaving.

"Nigel…" Gabi breathed desperately, anger lacing her words, "…he'll kill…" She closed her eyes in hesitation as they neared her, tears pressed out of her eyes before she opened them again, looking at a point on the floor, "…he'll kill Charlie."

Hannibal stopped walking, as did Will, just beside her and he smiled, showing a few of his dangerous teeth,

"Of course he will."

She blinked rapidly at the simple response, eyes slowly rising to look at Hannibal again.

Pretty and blue and wet and pouring need for Hannibal's help,

"Please, don't leave it like this." and it was obvious then that she wasn't as afraid of _Nigel_ as she was of this Darko person, or at least, she didn't have the same kind of influence over him and needed _Nigel's_ help.

Will thought the entire scenario was ridiculous, but still he said nothing.

Hannibal looked disappointed and unimpressed with her,

"This desperate pleading does not become you, Gabriella, you must compose yourself." It was a warning vaguely disguised as suggestion, "I've taught you well, you are a strong young woman…" she stared at Hannibal then, composing herself unconsciously and Will saw her affection –her love- for _Nigel_ as clear as day in her face, "…it is a pity that it has come to this, as I am quite fond of you." Will grimaced, teeth clenched. Hannibal noticed but said what he apparently needed to, "…cut your losses Gabriella, Charlie must die, but that does not mean you have to die with him."

Gabi shook her head, tears slipping from her eyes even as she tried to keep it together, and for the moment her distress was gone and she just looked honestly sad,

"The Nigel I knew, he loved me, but…but there was always a part of him I was afraid of…" she glanced at Will before looking at Hannibal again, apparently taking a moment for reflection, "…this…you are not him anymore, this person you are now, this _Hannibal_ , he is _real_ ," she sniffed, "but doesn't he feel anything for me after all this time...would, would he really just leave me for **this man**?" she referred to Will, still having the nerve to ask as if she had any right to claim more of Hannibal's loyalty than Will could. And Will wanted to strangle her, his hands around her delicate neck, bruising, while he'd yell in her face that **yes** , _Nigel_ was a farce, a lie, a fake, a manifestation of Hannibal's 'broken heart' over Will.

But when he tensed up, Hannibal soothed him with his thumb lightly moving against the skin of Will's neck, an affectionate, reassuring touch, before he spoke in a solemn tone,

"I'm afraid that where Will is concerned, neither you…nor I, ever stood a chance, Gabriella." And he said those words with such sincerity that Will was as sure as was humanly possible that he had and would never love anyone in the way he loved Hannibal, his chest swelling with pride, his body flooding with need and his heart with affection, all for Hannibal. There was a hollow part within him that could only be made whole by being with Hannibal.

Gabi just stared at the look they shared with one another, by that point she was just defeated and hurt.

Appeased, Will was close enough that he was easily able to lean in and press his face against the side of Hannibal's neck and when Hannibal's hand came up to run long fingers through the hair on the back of his head, Will said quietly,

"Let's go." he wasn't even surprised that he was able to be so openly touchy-feely with Hannibal, considering that he was never so inclined with anyone else before, but it felt right, it felt satisfying. So he went with it, enjoying the feeling of Hannibal's hand settling on his lower back, pressing Will forward again, to start walking.

As they passed Gabi, Hannibal said a few final parting words,

"Remember Nigel, but forget everything else you learned today, Gabriella." They stopped at the door and Hannibal looked at her side-long, a breeze filtering in from outside moving over their hair and clothes, "If you can manage that, I promise that we will never again cross paths…" he gave her a virulent yet sophisticated look, it was pure Hannibal Lecter, "…because trust me, my dear, you don't ever want to see me again." He threatened politely.

Will sent her a quick look that he hoped she understood meant ' _you're lucky you're still alive, bitch_ ', because that's what he was thinking, and then he walked out before Hannibal, expecting the older man to follow.

And he did.

* * *

 _It's like a stranger had a key, came inside of my mind_  
 _And moved all my things around_  
 _But he didn't know snakes can't kneel or prey_  
 _Try to break the psyche down…_

* * *

They exited through the side gate of the house and Will looked around before crossing the street, heading in the direction of where he'd parked the car and he gestured for Hannibal to follow, noticing how the older man cautiously glanced around. When Hannibal fell into step beside him on Will's right, he took a moment to look at the tattoo on the older man's neck. It was as real as the skin it was _permanently_ inked in to, a tacky and common picture of a woman figure slanting across the side of his neck.

Will _hated_ it immediately because it was out of place on the man that Hannibal was.

Thinking of that made him ask,

"So… **Nigel** , huh?" he wasn't really smiling, but he was trying to look as if he was as they crossed the second street, walking briskly.

The wind kicked up, tousling Will's never-really neat hair and Hannibal's loosely styled gray-blonde strands. Hannibal did this thing then, where he casually swiped his hands over each side of his hair to push it back from his face and while it was so obviously a _Nigel_ and not Hannibal action, it sent a shiver up Will's spine at how good the action as well as the strain of Hannibal's shirt around his biceps and shoulders, looked.

Whoever this 'Nigel' suit was, Hannibal had really gone very deep into it for him to absently act that way.

Will wouldn't miss it though, not for a second.

"Yes, Nigel," Hannibal glanced at him, watching Will go around to the driver's side of the small car he'd stopped at, "but perhaps we can talk about it once we're on our way out of Bucharest?" it wasn't actually a question.

Will just shrugged facially, not without some irritation, and unlocked the car before opening the driver side door,

"Where to?" He asked before getting in, followed shortly by Hannibal, who looked out of place in the small car.

"Is this rented under your real name?" He asked as he glanced around outside the car again.

"Yes." Will nodded, placing the key in the ignition and a hand on the steering.

"As is your hotel room?"

"Yes."

"Then we shall need to see you checked out of the hotel and the car returned before we leave." He decided and Will nodded, agreeing, it made sense. He started the car and pulled off the curb as Hannibal continued, "You will need a new identity after this." He informed with a quick glance at Will, "Your trail as Will Graham will end in Bucharest." He added, a tightness in his expression.

Will changed gears before taking a corner, fighting down the urge to get angry at Hannibal's lingering doubt,

"There is no trail, Hannibal." He said calmly, glancing at the older man pointedly before sliding his eyes back to the road. Hannibal didn't respond verbally, instead he just lingered his gaze on Will for a few seconds before he watched the road as well.

They were on the road for ten minutes, nearing the city center when Will shrugged,

"I will gladly accept whatever you choose for me," Hannibal glanced at him, "the identity I live with now is just barely passable and even less tolerable." He explained moodily as he turned into another road.

Hannibal nodded and after a beat, he smiled, small and personal,

"Permit me then, that your first name shall remain as it is." Hannibal watched Will side-long, "I find myself rather attached to it after all this time."

Will smiled at that, unable to help it, feeling his stomach filled with flutters, he gripped the steering wheel, nodding and glancing at Hannibal,

"Permitted." He said softly.

They fell silent after that, companionable and as comfortable as Will remembered it being. Nigel would be quickly forgotten and while the sting of Gabi having been Hannibal's _wife_ would linger, she too, would fade from memory.

* * *

 _It's as if my feathers were wax_  
 _And your artillery lead_  
 _Do you like our bed?_

* * *

Once they arrived at the hotel Will was staying at, Hannibal waited in the car while Will went in to collect his things and check out. It took about fifteen minutes before they were driving again, that time, in the direction of Calea Victoriei, the area in which Hannibal was currently staying at a hotel called Casa Capșa.

At the second hotel stop, Hannibal did likewise while Will waited in the car around the corner from the entrance and in less time than Will had taken, Hannibal came back out of the hotel, except he was empty handed as he approached the car. Will was confused at first, but when Hannibal told him to bring all of his luggage and anything else in the car that belonged to him, and to follow the older man, Will didn't question it. Together they carried Will's belongings –and the video cassette- around the corner and down the street aways, until Hannibal took a set of car keys from his pocket and unlocked a car nearby, across the street, the headlights flashing in the early evening blue and white washed light. It was a common, well-used car, a year 2000-ish BMW 3 Series compact in an awful red color, probably more than second hand by that point and the papers for it tampered with. Inconspicuous and hard to trace.

As they packed Will's luggage into the backseat and car trunk alongside Hannibal's stuff, the older man explained that he'd follow Will to the car rental place so he could return his car and thereafter they'd travel in Hannibal's car.

Will agreed, only too happy to follow Hannibal's lead because the man had always known exactly what he was doing and Will _missed_ that about him, had missed him in general, in too many ways. He'd missed knowing he was inside of Hannibal's scope, in Hannibal's web of plans, no longer lost in the ether as he had been, miserably, for months now.

He drove to the rental company, with Hannibal tailing him, returned the car and afterward, once it was all handled and Will Graham was no longer in Bucharest on paper, he settled into the worn leather passenger seat of Hannibal's car. And it was only about five minutes into their drive when Will started to feel his tension ease away along with his worries, and he felt so exhausted, sleepless nights and stress all catching up with him now that he was finally able to let his guard down…completely.

With Hannibal. Only with Hannibal.

Finally…he had Hannibal…and this time, it was real and it was for good.

He exhaled slowly, relaxed and calm, feeling himself on the verge of falling asleep as he leaned his head back on the headrest. He only thought to ask where they were going when he realized he was close to drifting off. Hannibal's mouth was curved into a smile, he was glancing at Will with quiet appreciation when he answered, telling Will in a low, lulling voice, that he would drive them to Constanța, which was a city on the coast of Romania, approximately a two hour drive from Bucharest.

Will mumbled a question of where they would go from Constanța, almost asleep, his eyes half lidded and watching Hannibal, his expression soft and content and set on the older man's profile in the semi-darkness of the car. Hannibal's only answer was to tell Will to sleep, not to worry.

And Will didn't even bother to insist, instead, he **trusted**.

Nodding sleepily, he brought his hand up from where it had been settled on the seat beside his thigh, and he placed it lightly on top of Hannibal's hand –strong, lined with veins and sinew- where it was settled on the gear shift. It was a bold move in its tenderly intimate suggestion, something a couple did, something almost sweet…

…and Will's eyes eased closed, his chest warm with relief, when Hannibal's fingers parted so that Will's could slide and fit between them on the gear shift, interlaced and then secured when Hannibal lightly squeezed their knuckles together.

* * *

 _Deep six, six, six feet deep…_

* * *

When Will awoke it was to a light hand patting his forearm and Hannibal's voice saying his name, quiet and deep in the silence of the dark car. He blinked a few times, squinting his slowly clearing vision from his arms –which he'd folded over his chest at some point-, to the bright white artificial light above the car, and then to Hannibal beside him in the driver's seat.

Hannibal was watching him, his eyes appearing completely black in the shadows cast by the bright light,

"We're here." He informed.

Will inhaled deeply, still waking up, he sat up properly from where he'd been leaning his weight against the car door and he swallowed and cleared his throat before speaking,

"Uh, where, where is here?" he asked tiredly, rubbing at his face with his hands before running them back through his hair and sniffing, managing to see clearer now, his eyes no longer trying to fall shut, he looked out through the windshield.

Will saw docks and rows of white boats and beyond that, the black of water.

"A yacht harbor." Hannibal answered simply before he opened his door and the car was filled with a fresh burst of sea scented air. Will inhaled deeply, and then quickly followed Hannibal as the man got out of the car,

"You have a yacht…?" Will asked over the roof of the car once he was standing outside, staring at the rows and rows of beautiful –and expensive- yachts of all shapes and sizes.

Hannibal smiled but didn't answer the question specifically asked,

"It was via sea travel that I left America in the wake of slaying The Dragon and I found I quite enjoyed it." He explained, looking at Will across the top of the car.

Will smiled,

"So you bought a _yacht_?" he wasn't all that surprised, Hannibal always had seemed too wealthy for his own good.

"Yes, Will, I did." Hannibal said with a smile of his own, leaning into the car to open the trunk, "Shall we?" he gestured to the backseat, suggesting they grab their belongings and get going.

Will nodded and opened the back passenger door on his side as Hannibal went to the trunk. Will grabbed the bags that were in the backseat as well as his designer suit jacket he'd tossed in there and he set it all down outside the car neatly before double checking for anything else afterward.

When he was sure he'd gotten everything out of the car, the last thing he was holding onto was the cassette and he shut the doors on his side just seconds before Hannibal closed the trunk,

"Do you have everything?" he asked as Will stood looking around the boat yard.

"Uh, yeah, I do, you can double check." He gestured to the car, looking at Hannibal again, watching how the lights cast shadows against his chiseled features.

Hannibal had ducked into the car again and Will continued to look around. They were in an expensive and more than likely private marina, a yacht club Hannibal probably had a membership entrance to. There were lights on in some of the yachts, people probably spending the evening in their lavish boats. Will would have been jealous if he didn't know he was about to be aboard one himself.

Will had thought Hannibal was double checking the car, until two minutes became five and he glanced inside to see what was taking so long. It was then that he saw the older man was wiping down the inside of the car - handles, dash, gear shift, steering wheel and seats. Will waited quietly then, not interrupting and rather enjoying the ocean breeze coming in from the water even as he pulled his suit jacket back on.

Hannibal took about fifteen minutes before he was satisfied with his work and after a final wipe to the outside handles and trunk, he locked the car up and they picked up their collection of luggage, walking through the parking lot and eventually climbing onto the docks.

Will was excited to see what yacht Hannibal owned, he'd never sailed on one, let alone been presented with the opportunity to actually sail one himself. Their shoes scuffed and knocked against the wooden planks as they passed several yachts in darkness, the roller wheels of Will's suitcase thudding loudly in the silence of the large area.

When Hannibal finally came to a stop it was at a slip and they stood at a finger dock between two yachts of different makes but nearly the same size, that being, they were both large yachts, Will estimated both were 40 footers. His first question would have been to ask which yacht belonged to Hannibal, but Will didn't have to because it was obviously the Carver C40 motor yacht on the left side of the slip.

Will knew it even before Hannibal leaned in with a smile and said quietly near his ear,

"Consider it the first gift of many I will give you, Will."

And Will was completely speechless, his stomach full of violently fluttering butterflies as he took in the sight of the yacht's name, an elegant black text vinyl decal on the back of the boat designed in Hannibal's professional calligraphic handwriting.

It read; **Stag**.

* * *

 _Love is evil_  
 _Con is confidence_  
 _Eros is sore_  
 _Sin is sincere_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer: Lyrics belong to Nine Inch Nails**_

 _ **Thanks to gokulex59 for beta reading**_

 _ **NB: This chapter has been cut for NC 17 material, please read the full chapter at AO3**_

* * *

 _Sunspots cast a glare in my eyes  
Sometimes I forget I'm alive  
I feel it coming and I've got to get out of its way  
I hear it calling and I come cause I can't disobey  
I should not listen and I shouldn't believe  
But I do  
Yes I do…_

* * *

They were a good few miles from the shore after thirty minutes of sailing out at a low cruising speed, and a further half hour later, they were also several miles down the coast of Constanța. They were headed south as far as Will had been able to tell when he'd been up on the flying bridge watching –admiringly- as Hannibal steered the yacht to course before he'd set it to autopilot.

Land was left behind them now, Will Graham abandoned in a foreign country. The last anyone would know of him would be that he checked out of a hotel in Bucharest before he'd just fallen off the map for good.

No one would look for _Nigel_ , Hannibal was not concerned, so Will wasn't either. And no one could link them as being seen together as Will and Hannibal besides Gabriella, and Hannibal seemed confident that Gabi's survival instincts would make her keep her mouth shut.

It made Will wonder if in the end, she'd actually try to help Charlie or let him die to keep herself safe. He also wondered if Hannibal had contacted Darko at some point that Will wasn't aware of, in order to fulfill his promise to Gabi. He figured Hannibal probably had, after all, the man always kept his promises.

There'd be no following up on it now though. One of the first things Hannibal had done once they'd left shore and had crossed the three mile mark, was have Will switch his cell phone off and remove the battery before he'd tossed it overboard. And so neither of them had a cell phone anymore.

Presently, it was dark beyond the yacht, inky black toward the horizon. There was the moonlight and stars which were largely blocked out by the clouds rolling across the navy blue sky, the bright light of the yacht and the distant shoreline dotted with light as well, but ultimately, little was visible of the water aside from the swell of placid waves here and there, disturbing the surface in flashes of white foam.

It was comfortably warm too, with a fair, sea scented breeze and Will felt relief and calm and like he was actually _home_ for the first time since that night on the bluff, where he'd been in Hannibal's arms for a blissful moment before he'd fucked everything up.

But that was in the past, and he would no longer dwell on it in the present.

Will was standing by himself outside of the salon lounge, in the aft cockpit of the yacht, holding a glass of wine in his hand that was barely sipped on as he stared out into the black water. It was a lot like how blood appeared black in the moonlight, really, and it was just as alluring too. There was a CD playing inside, the music filtering out into the open air, it was something classical, pleasantly haunting and complicated.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting his reality wash over him. Thinking of Hannibal's lips against his and the interlacing of their fingers, thinking of a life he'd grown to hate left behind, thinking about the name of the yacht that had so obviously been named for him –or after him- in a moment of sentimentality and longing.

Thinking of how indulged, revered, desired and ominously treasured he was, by a beautiful monster, how lucky he was to have been made a part of Hannibal's world. It all seemed so easy too, as if he'd never left, they had never been apart, as if it were simply impossible for Hannibal to have ever completely let him go and so he'd carved out a place in his life for Will permanently.

And it probably was just that, since Will had found it impossible for him to ever let Hannibal go as well.

They were completely different and yet entirely the same.

Still though, the scenario he was in seemed almost premeditated in its design.

A beautiful yacht for sailing –that literally had every luxury and necessity aboard it- that he'd named **Stag** and had gifted to Will, who loved boats and open water, as if that had been the purpose meant for the yacht all along. And Hannibal had learned to sail it but he'd told Will on the flying bridge earlier that he would teach Will as soon as he was ready to learn, so that he could sail the yacht himself. It was also the perfect size and layout, a yacht intended for only two people to manage. The yacht had been mostly unused, all of the outside furnishings covered with tarps, but it was in immaculate condition and probably saw upkeep and maintenance as regularly as was needed, always there, on _standby_.

Also, Hannibal had explained that the name he was traveling under, a Mr. Daan Lechner of Belgian decent, was a one hundred percent new identity, and Will had asked if that's whom the yacht was registered to. But Hannibal had once again failed to answer the question, choosing instead to tell Will that he already had new papers and a passport for him under the name William Louvet. Obviously, it was a _preconceived_ identity that allowed Hannibal to keep calling him 'Will', as he'd mentioned wanting to earlier, and his timing for telling Will that bit of information made the younger man think it was Hannibal's way of letting him know whose name the yacht was under.

Everything about the situation just seemed too _perfect,_ it seemed less and less like an 'in memory' of Will and more and more like a fallback 'just in case' plan.

Will stared contemplatively out at the black water, the cool rim of the glass pressed to his softly smiling lips. He couldn't help smiling, because while he was amazed and impressed by Hannibal's ability to plan for any and all outcomes, ultimately, he was just impossibly flattered that a man like Hannibal, who could have practically anything he wanted in the world, had hung on, so dearly, to the notion of one day having Will.

He closed his eyes when the cool breeze brushed against the warm skin of his face, clammy with sweat from a day of being in the hot weather of Bucharest. His hair felt tangled from the wind as he ran his free hand through his curls, dragging it down over the side of his face where his scar blemished his skin. As he rubbed at the side of his neck, Will allowed himself to get lost in the sound of the ocean, the classical music and the swaying of the yacht as it sailed at a slow pace. The yacht was a far cry from the small unstable boats, motor or windsailing, that Will had gone out into the water with in his life time. It could sail along on its own, autopilot and echo-sounder meaning only necessary vigilance needed to be maintained, as well as watching the weather for changes.

Will was still curious as to where exactly they were going, whether there would be continuous traveling for a while or a specific end destination. But wherever they were headed, Will was sure it would be as stunning and decadent as the yacht was. The yacht that had a refinished, custom interior that was styled specifically to suit Hannibal's unique aesthetics, in fact, Will was certain the yacht hadn't originally come with such expensive appliances and modern gothic decor finishes of the furnishings and general interior. It looked damn good though, unsurprising really since Hannibal was a man of _infamously_ good _tastes_.

Will was smiling around a sip of his wine when his thoughts were interrupted by a flare in his senses, and he didn't know how he knew, but the moment Hannibal stepped out from inside the lavishly furnished salon, silent though he was, Will sensed him there.

It was as if he had some innate sense, or perhaps it was just the predation that radiated off of Hannibal, that sent his skin crawling and his stomach fluttering all at once, so that he knew and would always know, every second moving forward, the very moment that Hannibal was in his presence…within his reach, at his side...at his back.

The devil in his presence, welcomed…desired…needed.

Will opened his eyes when the presence came to stand directly behind him, Will's back and Hannibal's chest just shy of touching. He licked traces of wine from his lips, lowering his glass as he said what was on his mind,

"You didn't know that I'd find you." It was a question and a statement, mentioned out of suspicion and curiosity, Will thinking it was unlikely but also wanting to know that Hannibal had spent his days hoping that Will would find him. Even though Hannibal had essentially been a drop of blood in an ocean...

"How could I have?" Hannibal said quietly behind him, an obvious smile in his voice. His tone was intimate, low and his words spoken so close that Will could feel Hannibal's breath against his ear, followed by a soft inhale. Will's eyes slid half closed and he felt himself shiver lightly as he too, inhaled, and he could smell the expensive cologne Hannibal wore, except now there was no trace of the cigarette smell to taint it.

It was familiar and just right.

"And yet…this yacht…?" Will inclined his head to the side slightly but he was not actually looking at Hannibal.

Hannibal smoothly closed the small space between them, so that Will's back was against his chest,

"I always thought of it as prudent planning. And also, it simply seemed wise not to underestimate you...ever again." he whispered the last two words against Will's hair, sighing as he pressed his nose into Will's tangled curls.

Will smiled, pleased and smitten with that reply, he felt like it was as good a time as any to be completely honest with Hannibal. He brought his glass up to his lips and held it just short of touching,

"I'm the one who underestimated my _need_ to be with you." he mumbled and then sipped the rich, fragrant wine.

Will was pleasantly surprised by the kiss Hannibal placed just below his ear in response to what he said, and he tilted his head to accommodate him, should he want to linger there. Hannibal was nosing behind Will's ear when he spoke again,

"I am unspeakably pleased that you found me." He said solemnly, voice gravelly.

He sounded very serious but Will still grinned, laughing softly,

"Well, technically, I found _Nigel._ "

Hannibal chuckled against Will's ear, sending numerous tingling sparks through Will's nerve endings and Will leaned back against the older man, wanting more contact, feeling a need for it in his bones. Hannibal supported him, and out of Will's peripheral, he watched Hannibal raise his own glass of dark red wine to take a sip from it over Will's shoulder.

Will turned his head enough that he could watch Hannibal's Adam's apple bob once slowly as he swallowed the sip of wine, and then Will turned around and took a step back in order to properly take in the sight of a freshly showered, properly groomed, dressed and restored Hannibal Lecter.

Will appreciatively looked him over from head to toe. The doctor was decked out in a perfectly fit casual suit, no loose shirt and pants, no gaudy jewelry, no scuffs on his shoes. His suit was a silver-gray color with a sheer quality to it, a well-fitting jacket with sheer black lapels and pants with a sheer black lining on the outer seam of each leg. Underneath the suit jacket he wore a black cotton shirt, with no tie or waistcoat or cufflinks. On his feet were a pair of one-piece black leather oxfords. His multi-tonal blonde/gray hair wasn't as neat as it had used to be since it was longer than usual, but Hannibal still combed it back, with just a few strands hanging over his ears and partially over his forehead and finally, his face was cleanly shaven. The way he appeared was reminiscent of how he'd looked in Florence years ago, a sophisticated sort of sleek.

The awful tattoo on his neck, which Will loathed, was still visible. He assumed that Hannibal seeing the scar on his face made by Dolarhyde held the same displeasure he felt in seeing the tattoo, it was a permanent blemish made by someone else, something that shouldn't be there. But the tattoo did not define Hannibal, just as the scar on Will's face had healed over and had left behind only a subtle raise of off color flesh that he was able to conceal well enough beneath his trim beard. And Will refused to let that scar define him, not in the way the smile across his abdomen always would.

Hannibal smirked, a slight curving of his lips as he brought a hand up to feign a touch to Will's jaw line, Will only wished he'd actually touched him.

"Do you still see Nigel?" he asked quietly.

Will shook his head once, ignoring the tattoo completely to answer the question, taking in a quiet breath and blinking slowly, struck with a deep comfort and simultaneous longing as he stood facing the older man with nothing left between them but space easily filled.

Will could never have guessed how far he'd fallen –in every way – for Hannibal. But he felt it more clearly and more defined in every moment he spent with the older man, that his place was meant to be beside Hannibal.

He felt overwhelmed with his feelings for a moment and averted his eyes to Hannibal's chest,

"No, no…this is…" he smiled shakily and reached his free hand out and, unlike Hannibal, he did touch, running his fingertips over the smooth finish of one lapel, "…Hannibal," he trailed his eyes up until he and Hannibal were looking at one another, "you are…my quiet stream." he confessed with difficulty, his voice quiet and tight as he admitted to the devil that he was Will's only place of solace left in the world.

Hannibal's smirk faded, his eyes taking on a more intense glow as he studied Will's face before he quietly asked,

"Do you dream of wading out to me, Will?" and Hannibal's ability to shape one's thoughts with just the way he might say something instantly inspired a graphic image in Will's head, similar to one that he'd seen before, of Hannibal's Wendigo likeness rising out of his quiet stream, down current, pulling Will to him little by little with the rush of water.

But it was different in his mind's eye now, more vivid, more saturated, red water, darkened trees lining the banks under unnatural bleached white skies,

"Yes, I wade out to where you stand in a stream of blood." Will confirmed, and then he closed his eyes briefly, "or an ocean of it, rather." he amended as the image in his mind expanded, nothing but blood rising up and up and up in every direction and he smiled widely before opening his eyes again. He was entirely accepting of what his future with Hannibal held, even anticipating it.

"You'll find it isn't quiet at all in an ocean of blood." Hannibal offered, his eyes unabashedly taking in every detail of Will's face, as if he simply wanted to _look_ as much as he could.

Will raised an eyebrow and laughed quietly, swirling what was left of his wine and watching it stain the sides of the glass as it moved,

"That's a good thing," He glanced from Hannibal's chin to his eyes, "I've grown _so_ tired of the quiet."

And he meant it.

Some nights the silence stretched on in his nightmares forever. Hannibal wasn't always there to walk through the cold emptiness of his nightmares with him. Only rarely did he make an appearance in his immaculately dressed demon form of black tight skin, with crooked antlers adorning his head and as the reimagined version of Will's nightmarish Wendigo-Hannibal, he had dark red eyes and rows of sharp teeth stained with The Dragon's blood.

But no matter what, it always ended the same way…either the darkness swallowed Will whole, or Hannibal tore his throat out with his teeth and then consumed him.

Yet Will always missed him anyway when he wasn't there.

But now he had the real thing.

And while there were no antlers or red eyes, there was Hannibal's dark eyes that absorbed the shadows. And where there was no blood in his teeth, there was the red of wine and flush staining his lips. And even though his body was not leathery and black, his skin was that of Hannibal Lecter, as handsome on the outside as he was inhuman beneath it all.

Will's eyes fluttered shut and he swallowed thickly as he felt a rush of heat that started from the tips of his ears and travelled through him, all the way down into his loins, becoming a sensual tug that felt sore between his thighs. And it was a foreign concept to him, experiencing such an intense arousal because of another man -barely even a _human_ \- and yet, Will _wanted_ him.

He wanted **everything** of Hannibal.

Hannibal inhaled, scenting the air discreetly and Will just knew the older man could smell his sexual desire like a shark smelled blood in the water. But Will felt no shame in it and he didn't shy away either, instead opening his eyes again and looking into Hannibal's, hiding nothing of what he felt.

Hannibal touched him then, his free hand coming up to hold the side of Will's face, his fingertips settling in Will's hair, Hannibal's smooth, warm palm covering his ear and distorting the sound of ocean and music, before he leaned closer and Will felt the press of smooth, damp lips touch to his other ear,

"Should you choose to sleep beside me, Will…" he whispered, his voice a rough and daunting sound, loud in one ear and distorted in the other, "…I will devour your dreams and your nightmares." It was a promise, a promise that Will would sleep soundly if he slept beside the devil.

Will found himself disappointed that Hannibal had stopped his promise there, and when his gaze lowered to look at Hannibal's shoulder, he prompted in a breathy voice,

"And what about me?" He turned his face so he exhaled against the sliver of visibly scarred skin on Hannibal's wrist that his sleeves didn't hide, "Will you _devour_ me, Hannibal?" and Will hoped his tone conveyed the unraveling sexual urges and desires he was having.

Hannibal smirked,

"I have **always** wanted to." He caressed Will's ear with his thumb as he spoke against the shell of Will's other ear, "And I don't mean it to imply ingesting you." He added in a whisper with humor in his tone, as if it were a funny secret.

Will's arousal was still simmering and he raised an eyebrow, turning his head so he was speaking against Hannibal's cheek instead of his wrist, inhaling Hannibal's heady aftershave,

"No desire left to eat my brains, Doctor Lecter?" he was partially serious, but also morbidly curious to know.

Hannibal's hand moved downward then as he drew back to look at Will, holding the side of Will's neck as his thumb caressed the line of Will's neatly bearded jaw line, ever tactile, Hannibal's touches were distracting Will whether or not it was his intention,

"I was quite angry with you at the time." He admitted and Will made a mock surprised face,

"Really? You don't say." He said sarcastically.

Hannibal grinned so sharp and suddenly that Will's breath hitched –and he leaned an inch closer- to be in such close proximity to Hannibal's predatory smile and _lethal_ teeth,

"Cheeky." Hannibal admonished, fondly amused as he wet his lips, catching his tongue briefly between his teeth and looking from Will's _cheeky_ mouth to his eyes, "I confess, Will, that it was a decision I would have regretted very deeply." He sounded about as sincere as a psychopath could….and Will believed him completely.

And believing him meant so much that it made Will's stomach flip and flutter with several convoluted feelings, none of them bad, but all of them overwhelming and he smiled, genuine and small, as Hannibal looked _adoringly_ at him. Deciding to lighten the mood, Will said,

"A moment on the lips…a life time-…"

"…without you." He cut Will off, his voice low and unguardedly _tender._

Will's mouth fell open, parting on a breath stuck in his throat at the ridiculous –and awfully romantic- way that sounded and came across, another step for them into bizarrely sweet territory. And trust Hannibal to make a joke about cannibalism into something that sent Will's heart rate careening and his emotions scrambling for purchase, needing to be grounded quickly before Will could start blushing like a lovesick little girl.

But Hannibal saved him the floundering embarrassment of his sudden inability to articulate, by pulling Will into an open mouth kiss. Hannibal ran his tongue teasingly along the line of Will's teeth, before he licked deep and demandingly into Will's mouth and Will made an explicitly sexual noise, a sound that was pathetic and eager and it sounded like an invitation for sex if Will had ever heard one. Breathy, pitchy, raw with lust and shaken with need, he almost couldn't believe it came out of him.

And for Will, in that moment, anything that hadn't seemed possible or hadn't been previously considered about how far he could go sexually, was immediately made fluid and imminent.

Will gripped Hannibal's side through his layers of clothing with his free hand, holding tightly, knuckles white as he offered his mouth yieldingly and gave in completely under the depth of the kiss and ravishing consumption of Hannibal's dangerous and skilled mouth, Hannibal's mouth that was hot and made Will melt.

His tongue, his teeth, the stretch and the wet and the _hunger_ of his kiss…turned to kisses, more and so many, becoming their mouths perfectly synced, opening and closing and sliding against one another's, sucking, careful biting, Will's breathing – escalating, louder and louder- Hannibal's presence –like an invisible pressure crushing Will's lungs- as he succumbed to the infamous cannibal now eating at his mouth.

Will found himself wanting closer and more and he needed to remember to breathe, but when Hannibal's arm wrapped securely around his waist, bringing them flush together, he forgot again. It was difficult to think beyond the taste of tannin and mint on Hannibal's tongue but he managed to take a quick shaken breath between one kiss and the next and needing both his hands on Hannibal just as badly as he'd needed air, Will's fingers went lax around the rim of his wine glass…

…but it never hit the yacht floor. Hannibal's slender and dexterous fingers had slipped beneath the bowl of the glass a second before Will let it go, as if he'd known Will needed his hand free in order to run it through Hannibal's lengthy, sleek and smooth hair.

He kissed Will through his renewed desperation, he was indulgent with his technique and generous with his tongue, slowly wrapping his other arm around Will's mid-back and holding him in the keep of his arms. Minutes passed that way and when Hannibal finally left off from Will's mouth, his lips were moistened with their combined saliva, ruddy and sore in the wake of Hannibal's kisses. The older man licked at the corner of Will's mouth before inhaling against his cheek, trailing his nose up into Will's hairline before he swallowed audibly, as if he could taste Will's scent.

"I think you may make me insatiable…" Hannibal said in a hot whisper against Will's forehead,

Will felt himself trembling, he needed _more,_

"Take…" Will started frowning, not even sure how to word how desperately he wanted Hannibal to devastate and consume him, to show him the intense pleasure that lay in the dark, dark places the older man existed, "…take anything you want, Hannibal, take _everything_." he offered, he'd give it, he _wanted_ Hannibal to have him.

Hannibal released him, which was the opposite of what Will expected, and he took a half a step back, lowering his arms to his sides, each of their wine glasses in either of his hands, and Will swallowed tensely, waiting for a response. Hannibal was quiet for several long seconds before he spoke, tone low and superb,

"If that is what you want…" he said quietly and Will blinked a few times, nodding unevenly and prompting Hannibal to go on. His eyes tracked over the length of Will's body, "…then if you would please, take a shower. I wish to have you in your most natural state." There was lust in his tone then, as restrained as it could be under the circumstances.

Will watched, fascinated, as Hannibal took a long drink of wine from his glass, as if he were parched.

The likelihood of Hannibal being nervous was nonexistent, so it only left Will to assume his sudden dry mouth was a sign of strong sexual anticipation. Will could relate…although, he was nervous as well as keen.

He nodded in an aroused daze, more than willing to do what Hannibal asked of him because he wanted to lay with the devil. The thought of it alone had him turning and walking back through the glass doors into the brightly lit salon of the yacht.

"Will…" He was just inside the doors and he turned around when Hannibal said his name in his grotesquely beautiful accent. Hannibal was looking out into the dark water and not at Will.

"Yes?" Will asked as he looked over the older man, his eyes taking in his lean well-dressed form.

Hannibal looked at him then, completely serious, so intense it made Will want him to stop but also to never look away,

"Do not dress," his accent was pronounced in the quiet, complimented by the music and when he spoke his consonants and vowels would somehow bend to suit whatever implications he wanted to make, as they usually did, and in this case it was dominance and possessiveness Will heard when Hannibal said, "come to me naked."

It was hardly a request and Will wasn't about to argue against it anyway, he just barely repressed a thrilled shiver and nodded once as his heart begun to race again and his body turned hot.

When Hannibal sipped from his near empty wine glass again, Will turned away and passed through the lounge and galley to enter through the doorway of the main stateroom.

As he entered the room, Will's mind drifted to his wine glass that had been held safely in Hannibal's hand, having been saved from falling. There would no shattered glass between them that night…and no red staining the floors either.

It made Will smile to know it.

* * *

 _It turns me on  
It makes me real  
I have to apologize  
For the way I feel…_

* * *

 _My life, it seems has taken a turn  
Why in the name of god would I ever want to return?  
Peel off our skin we're gonna burn what we were to the ground  
Fuck in the fire and we'll spread all the ashes around  
I wanna' kill away the rest of what's left and I do  
Yes I do…_

* * *

Hannibal's yacht…or rather, it was _their_ yacht since Hannibal had gifted it to him but Will felt whatever would be his should be Hannibal's too, either way, **the** yacht had had an entire custom interior redesign done. The furniture on the flying bridge, in the salon and aft cockpit were reupholstered in darker, richer browns, blacks and touches of night-sky indigo - all of which were similar to the colors of Hannibal's dining room back in Baltimore. The wall finishes were also customized throughout, all in darker woods, the cupboards and floors. The galley too, was all dark wood and stainless steel surfaces, much like Hannibal's kitchen in Baltimore, except much smaller and with only the necessary appliances.

So while Will hadn't gone into the stateroom when they'd first boarded, he wasn't surprised when he entered, to find it was also redone. The room was a comfortable size, as was the double island berthed bed, which was flanked by dark wood cupboards and two horizontal windows on either side above it.

Will had never seen Hannibal's bedroom in his Baltimore home, so he was guessing, but he figured it was more than likely that the color scheme was similar to whatever it had been. Again, all wood finishes were dark, offset by dark browns and blacks here and there and finally the bed covers had mainly two solid colors, a black sheet and thick duvet with black cased pillows, complimented by continental pillows, a large neatly folded throw at the foot of the bed and the base all in a dark, aquamarine color.

It was gorgeous and sensual and alluring, especially with the dim lighting in the stateroom and the low moonlight coming in through the windows.

Will found the en-suite easily enough, it was just inside and beside the room entrance and the dark wood, with white and steel finishes in the bathroom fit perfectly with everything else. It was actually sort of extravagant.

Not only did the yacht probably cost more than Will's property in Wolf Trap and his car had put together, but it was more luxurious than most suites in the few hotels he'd stayed in over the years.

It was all Hannibal, he'd always been a man who lived indulgently, largely defined by his exquisite tastes in all things…and yet, Will frowned when it reoccurred to him, that for however long Hannibal had been in his _Nigel_ -suit, Will felt certain he hadn't been living in such excess.

Will still had questions on the subject of _Nigel_ , but for the moment he focused on attending to Hannibal's request. He got into the shower and washed himself from head to toe using Hannibal's shampoo, his conditioner and his shower gel, every single thing was expensive, luxuriating and richly scented - cocoa, amber, cinnamon, bergamot, cardamom- and once he was done washing himself –and was feeling pampered- Will let the hot water run over him for a few minutes longer to relax his muscles before he finally switched the water off and stepped out.

He used a dark aquamarine towel displayed in a half fold evenly atop two others –white and black- on the towel bar and with it, Will did a cursory dry to his skin and to his hair. Once that was done, he found a sealed toothbrush in a cupboard and he proceeded to brush his teeth, tasting and enjoying the toothpaste for its sharp and strong icy freshness, just as he had enjoyed tasting it when Hannibal had kissed him earlier.

When he was finished, Will left the towel on the counter and then he took a moment to run his hands back through his damp curls, removing them from where they'd been clinging to his forehead and ears.

He was nervous, but his nerves were not only because this was new territory, being with a man for the first time, but mostly because he was _anticipating_ and was curious about what was to come.

And Will surprised himself with how much he truly wanted this.

Where Hannibal was concerned, much like his morals and conscience had, his heterosexuality had quickly become blurred and undefined, malleable and fluid, adaptable and yielding to the ever unpredictable entropy of life.

Will heard the door to the stateroom close and he knew that Hannibal had entered the room because he hadn't closed the door when he'd come in. Hannibal was waiting for him…and Will felt no need to hesitate...

* * *

 ** _NC 17 content removed_**

* * *

...desire, possession, need, hunger and respect.

Respect because they were equals.

Will held his gaze, satisfied and sleepy…but as concern and apology seeped into Hannibal's expression, Will frowned up at him, his hand on Hannibal's face absently caressing,

"What?" he asked, surprised by how hoarse he sounded, swallowing afterward in an attempt to wet his throat.

"I've hurt you." Hannibal said quietly and licked the inner seam of lips, he sounded sincerely regretful.

But while Will was certainly feeling sore _everywhere_ , and would continue to the next day, he didn't feel _hurt_ in the bad sense of the word, no, that wasn't the right word at all, it was too hostile a word to use between him after what they'd just shared. Where once it would have fit, it didn't anymore.

"No…" he shook his head and leaned up, brushing his nose and lips along Hannibal's jaw, "…I'd say…that you _devoured_ me." He breathed out.

He smiled slowly, caressing the side of Hannibal's face with his hand as his eyes drooped, he felt so sleepy,

"It was…perfect…" he admitted sincerely, slurring from how exhausted he was.

Hannibal smiled too, turning his face and catching Will's hand there so he could kiss his palm and knuckles before stilling with his mouth against Will's skin, holding the back of Will's hand to his lips as he spoke,

"No regrets, then?" he asked quietly, playing with Will's hair between the fingers of his other hand.

Will shook his head tiredly, squeezing his hand in Hannibal's as much as he could, the ache that was resonating through his back and legs and loins all felt _right_ ,

"No, no regrets." He affirmed and looked at Hannibal's mouth, wordlessly requesting a kiss.

Hannibal kissed him, more than just once, more than just a few times, kisses that were long, slow and deft, he was learning the inside of Will's mouth leisurely, bringing Will's lips to a new state of swollen and flushed. And Hannibal's kiss was laced with a deep affection and adoration the man should by all rights not have been capable of feeling or conveying, and Will frowned under the depth of it, feeling emotionally shaken as it came over him.

When Hannibal drew back with a soft smack of their lips, Will sighed sleepily, looking up at Hannibal with new interest and intense feelings as he trailed his hand from Hannibal's face, down over his shoulder and chest, forcing his eyes to stay open as he licked the taste of Hannibal from his kiss moistened lips.

Hannibal's lips curved into a pleased smile as he gently ran a hand over Will's forehead, unsticking the hair there and brushing it back before sliding his hand down the side of Will's face, fingers trailing over his ear and his thumb along Will's jaw.

Will sighed again as he brushed his fingers idly through Hannibal's chest hair, his eyes hardly able to stay open and Hannibal chuckled deeply,

"Sleep, Will." He said quietly, "Don't worry and don't dream. You're safe." He was looking over Will's face fondly.

And Will knew it was true, that he was safe there, with the Devil watching over him.

Will was very likely the only person alive who could say that he was safe with Hannibal Lecter.

He truly was the exception now.

"Safe…" he repeated quietly, a small smile on his lips as he blinked once drowsily before letting his eyes close a final time so that sleep could take him.

Will felt Hannibal shift, first Will's position and then his own, so that Hannibal was lying with his chest to Will's back and Will was in the embrace of his arms, Hannibal's breath warm against the back of his neck.

Will pressed back against his warmth and reveled in the feeling of content and ease…and yes, love.

He was in love with Hannibal.

And if he dreamed of Wendigo Hannibal that night, Will knew he would not be afraid of its appetite.

* * *

 _Now I just stare into the sun  
And I see everything I've done  
I think I could have been someone  
But I can't stop what has begun  
When everything is said and done  
And there is no place left to run  
I think I used to be someone  
Now I just stare into the sun…_

* * *

 _A/n Lithuanian Translation (beautiful, selfish, malicious, perfect)_


	4. Chapter 4

_And nothing can stop me now  
There is nothing to fear…_

* * *

When Will awoke, it was from a deep, restful sleep, so it was a slow process, but also a pleasant one.

He woke with a deep inhale, lying on his front on the bed, the length of his body flat out against the smooth sheet, cheek pressed into a soft full pillow surrounded by several others. It was fresh in the stateroom, a cool breeze entering and ventilating the space, ruffling Will's dried and very unruly curls against the pillow…and also bringing to his attention, from air ghosting over his personal places, that he was completely naked and not covered even an inch by the duvet bundled up at the foot of the bed.

Will didn't move to cover himself, unconcerned, he only smiled and brought his arm, the one at his side, up to join the other underneath the pillow he was lying on, folding his arms together underneath in order to bunch it up as he turned to rub his face into it, feeling giddy and relaxed…and free.

There was not a single worry on his mind that morning. He didn't have to worry about Maryland or Virginia, Jack or reporters like Freddy Lounds, police or enemies, he didn't have to stress about the size of Europe and where in it Hannibal might be, he didn't have to worry about maps and hotels and money and hisfuture, no more wondering where he'd end up if he'd never found Hannibal.

The only thing he had to wonder about right then was where they'd stop next for supplies, where they were ultimately headed and having to learn how to properly assist in managing the yacht.

They weren't concerns, just things on his agenda.

He'd found Hannibal and so there was nothing else he _needed_ outside of that.

After about five minutes of enjoying the breeze on his naked body and waking up properly, enjoying the peace and quiet, the noise of the water lapping lightly against the yacht, he finally opened his eyes and decided to get up, rolling from his front onto his back.

Will groaned around a smile when the movement hurt in several places, intimate areas as well as unused muscles. He huffed a laugh at the pleasant ache before he stretched his body out against the sheet, long and satisfying. Afterwards he sighed, feeling _happy_ , which was an unusual thing for him. Will rubbed his hands over his face and up into his hair before he looked up at his reflection, seeing a few red marks against his fair skin in various places on his body and noticing how comfortable he looked there, in Hannibal's bed…in _their_ bed.

Will's smile lingered as he looked around the room, taking in the sight of it in daylight.

After a moment, he pushed himself to sit up, wincing as he did, and ran a hand back through his messy curls again. He noticed then that the breeze was coming in through the open door of the stateroom, filtering in from where the galley, salon lounge and the open glass doors were. He couldn't see Hannibal through the doorway but he wasn't concerned, he'd always assumed the man was an early riser and Will knew he was somewhere on the yacht.

He looked over himself and the bed then, they were collectively rumpled and in need of being cleaned and the thought only made him smile that much wider. Will couldn't remember the last time he'd woken up feeling that good, after sex or just in general. He licked his lips and absently ran his fingers along the inside of his thigh over a hikkie there, thinking over whether he should find Hannibal or shower first.

After a minute of deliberation, he decided Hannibal would appreciate him showering and being fresh, the man had such a sensitive nose after all, and Will knew –after sniffing himself- that he smelled of stale sweat and sex -Hannibal would probably be able to smell the semen on him too- and he didn't want to offend Hannibal's nose.

So he got off the bed, swinging his legs over on the left side and then he made his way into the en-suite.

* * *

Will relieved his bladder and then he took a fifteen minute shower, slightly longer than usual due to having to clean himself in a new way and then waiting for his semi-erection to go down. He'd been unable to help being turned on, when once he'd been vertical long enough, Hannibal's come had started to leave his body, slipping down his thighs obscenely.

After he washed himself thoroughly under comfortably hot water, Will exited the shower and lightly dried his hair and upper body with a clean towel –the bathroom having been freshly tidied while he was asleep- and then he wrapped it low on his waist before he picked up the toothbrush he'd used the previous night and he brushed his teeth.

As Will cleaned his teeth and brushed the back of his tongue, the thought of having performed oral sex on Hannibal the night before flashed in his mind, making him blush as he spat out toothpaste and smiled awkwardly to himself with foamy lips, shaking his head in mild disbelief that at the same time the previous day, he'd still been uncertain of whether he'd ever find Hannibal.

The day before almost seemed ridiculous right then…Bucharest of all places, Hannibal's high-end gangster person-suit, red haired Gabriella and a stupid damn video tape, the likes of which Will had no idea where it ended up, but he assumed Hannibal had probably tossed it overboard at some point, or he would if he hadn't yet, never to be seen again.

His smile fell away as he rinsed his mouth and when he placed his toothbrush back into the holder and shut off the tap, Will paused, water collecting in the seam of his closed lips and dripping off his chin as a crease formed between his eyebrows. Thinking of Gabriella made him angry, but not because she'd been _Nigel's_ wife, that was the past now, _Nigel_ was gone for good, but simply because his empathy had run rampant around her and it had all been bad vibes.

Her ill intentions had been so poorly concealed, it had been easy for Will to intuit that the likeliness of her betraying _Nigel_ had been unsettlingly high. So obvious in fact that he didn't know how Hannibal wouldn't have seen it himself, or if he had seen it, how he had been able to let her get away with it.

He stood up straight and wiped the majority of the water from his mouth with his hand, his eyes distant as he considered that maybe Hannibal –Nigel- had known her intentions, or at least suspected, but hadn't been concerned about her getting it right. Or maybe he'd believed he could change her mind? But no, Hannibal wouldn't have been so foolish…

Will honestly had no idea, and he'd never know unless Hannibal told him.

But Will wanted _Nigel_ to remain a closed book, he didn't want to bring it up ever again.

Will sighed, shaking his head and deciding that it really didn't matter anymore. He was with Hannibal now and _nothing_ would separate them again, save for death.

This was it. Will wanted the happiness and the freedom to be his true self.

He'd wanted Hannibal and now he had him.

He and Hannibal had consummated their relationship the night before and it had been perfect.

Whatever pain Will had felt along with all the pleasure, even the fear and the overwhelming moments of it, all of it had been better than he could have imagined.

 _Nigel_ was forgotten by the time he left the stateroom, and wearing only the black towel around his waist –because what need did he have for modesty or shyness after what he and Hannibal had done the night before- he made his way up the few steps into the galley.

Will glanced around, noticing yet again how stunning the interior of the yacht was before he made his over to the expensive designer express coffee machine that looked like something a barista would use. It was nothing like the fancy old-style vacuum coffee maker Hannibal had used in his kitchen back in Baltimore, but in its own way, it was typically Hannibal. Set just in front of the machine was a glass-steel coffee mug already filled with steaming hot coffee –which meant Hannibal had probably heard Will in the shower and had made it for him- and next to the mug was a matching sugar container and spoon. There was no milk or cream laid out, but then, Hannibal knew Will never took either in his coffee.

Will stirred in two sugars before lifting the mug to his lips and sipping the heavenly liquid, because of course Hannibal had the _best_ coffee ever, he always had.

Will set the spoon into one side of the empty double sink as he glanced around the empty salon lounge, taking another sip of coffee before walking through the lounge and out through the glass doors to the back of the yacht. Will closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as the ocean breeze passed over him, catching at the water in his hair and the droplets clinging to his skin. The sun was shining down on him, but he didn't feel hot, in fact, the weather felt just right.

He reopened his eyes after a moment, sipping his coffee again as he noted that they weren't moving. He glanced out at the water then and saw that they were floating a few miles out from the shore of a city along the coast. The water was dark blue under the sunny, cloudless skies, but it got lighter, shallower, in the distance nearer to the land where Will could see buildings and a beach front and much further down the coast was a large marina.

He brought the cup to his lips again, about to sip his coffee when Will heard the sound of disturbed water and frowning, he stepped out further to look over the back of the yacht, down at the swim platform. He smiled then, against the rim of his cup as his eyes fell on Hannibal, who had just pulled himself out of the water.

Will lowered the mug as he looked over the length of Hannibal, who wore nothing but a pair of black swimming trunks that were now _clinging_ to his wet body. Water ran over his skin from his hair and shorts as he stood up straight and slicked his wet hair back from his face with both of his hands. At that point, he saw Will and a small smile stole across his face, one that spoke of a quiet but deep happiness much like the sort Will was experiencing.

Will couldn't help smiling as well, grinning actually and blushing too, so he looked away for a moment and tried to cool himself down. Seeing a folded towel lying on the deck sofa, Will picked it up and when he looked back at Hannibal, the older man had opened the small gate and stepped up from the platform to where Will was standing.

"Good morning." Will said, as he held the towel out to Hannibal, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Just about…" Hannibal responded, taking the towel with a nod of thanks and letting it fall open before dabbing it over his face and neck, "…it's nearly noon." he informed, running the towel over his hair and then dropping it back onto the seat.

Will raised his eyebrows and shook his head, glancing down at his coffee,

"Wow, really…" he sighed, "…sorry about that." He mumbled and ran his free hand back through his slowly drying curls.

But Hannibal remedied that by stepping closer, into Will's personal space and Will immediately looked at him, his head titled back just so to compensate for their slight height difference. Will swallowed lightly as Hannibal placed his hand at the side of Will's neck, his cool hand contrasting Will's warm skin, and he leaned in…but then he paused, his lips inches from Will's.

Will nearly asked why he'd stopped, but then he thought better of it, deciding rather to take the initiative. So he leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to Hannibal's, placing his free hand on Hannibal's side, on his bare skin still cool from the ocean water. Appeased, Hannibal took control of the kiss and licked his way into Will's mouth and for the next minute he lavished Will's mouth with attention, his nearest hand sliding into Will's hair to entangle in his curls –Hannibal seemed to enjoy doing that- and the other settled on Will's lower back, pulling Will closer as he teased his fingers along the low waist of Will's towel.

When the kiss came to a natural end, their lips still touching and breaths mingling, Hannibal swallowed and moved his hands so they were both settled on Will's waist,

"No need for apologies, I was perfectly content to let you sleep." he said quietly, sincerely.

Will didn't know what to say so he chose to press another kiss to Hannibal's lips, a sweeter kiss, and Hannibal responded accordingly, not looking for anything more than what Will offered, a slow, soft press of their lips before parting again.

Will cleared his throat then, feeling heat rise all along his chest and up to his ears as he idly moved his fingers against the skin of Hannibal's side, trying to –once again- cool himself down.

Will wasn't used to having such strong emotional reactions to anyone, least of all those of a romantic kind, but Hannibal had always been an exception and this new territory in their relationship was no different.

"So, uh, where are we?" he gestured to the shoreline with his coffee cup, which he'd been holding to the side.

Hannibal stepped back then and turned around to observe the distant beach,

"That would be Mangalia." and Will found he was both relieved and disappointed by the given space, the casual closeness was overwhelming but not in a bad way, he knew he just needed to get used to it and he really wanted to, "It is the last major city we will pass on Romania's coast before we begin sailing the coastline of Bulgaria." he explained, standing beside Will, their bare shoulders almost touching.

Will raised his eyebrows, sipping from his nearly finished coffee before speaking again,

"Are we going ashore?" he turned to look at Hannibal, noticing the water that had collected in the shallow hollow of his clavicle,

"For some supplies, yes, but also…" he looked at Will, who looked at him and stopped staring distractedly at his wet skin –Hannibal's skin that had always been so covered up in suits-, "…I had hoped we could eat. Mangalia has many beautiful beaches and several seaside restaurants, and at this time, there is little else but coffee on board." He informed, smiling slightly, "I can prepare dinner for us tonight once we've purchased provisions, but perhaps you would be amenable to a traditional Romanian lunch?"

Will wasn't sure why Hannibal was even asking him, he was fine with practically anything, but he nodded anyway,

"Of course…" he laughed lightly after finishing his coffee, "…I'll let you order though, I don't know anything about what's good in Romanian cuisine." He admitted.

Hannibal didn't seem surprised, just amused, because it was still countryside Virginia-Will after all.

Another fresh breeze moved over them in their moment of silence, unsettling Will's hair and Hannibal seemed to get caught up watching him before he leaned nearer and _nuzzled_ his nose into Will's hair, his lips pressed lightly against Will's temple.

Will swallowed and exhaled shortly, trying to manage his oversensitive reactions to Hannibal's light touches, but Hannibal was bound to notice,

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked quietly against Will's temple, a note of dismay in his quiet tone.

Will panicked at hearing it, he didn't want to give Hannibal the impression he wasn't happy to be there, so he reacted quickly, shaking his head and turning to face Hannibal properly,

"No…no it isn't that..." he said firmly, looking up at Hannibal, "…it's the opposite in fact, but…I'm…" he sighed, "…I'm still not, I guess, I guess I need to get used to it…" he trailed off, lowering his head and staring at the space between them, "…I need to get used to…so badly… _wanting_ you to touch me that it, well, i-it trips me up." He confessed quietly, feeling inarticulate and nonsensical.

Hannibal sighed then, but it wasn't with irritation like Will expected, it actually sounded like relief. Hannibal took Will's face in his hands then, and raised it so they could look at one another,

"If that is all, then we will be fine."

"We'll be more than _fine_." Will interjected quickly, his green-blue eyes fixed on Hannibal's day-lit brown eyes, his hand returning to touch Hannibal's side, just a bit lower on his waist so that Will could feel the clingy, thin material of his shorts.

Hannibal nodded once, satisfied with Will's answer, and his hands slid to settle on Will's shoulders,

"More than fine, indeed." He said quietly, and Will _knew_ he heard sentimental emotion in Hannibal's voice that time.

Will didn't even know how to begin comprehending the nonviable feelings Hannibal seemed to have for him. So he decided to lighten the mood again and changed the subject,

"Do you have a plan for where we end up, or will we be living on this yacht for the foreseeable future?" he asked curiously. Hannibal glanced down to Will's hand before he took the empty coffee cup from him,

"While sailing is an excellent private mode of transportation, considering the distance we'd have to travel to get to where we need to, I would not advise it," He was saying as he went inside to the galley, "it would simply take too long. It would be easier to sail to _Varna_ in Bulgaria and then catch a flight. I will have the yacht shipped to our final destination once we've settled." He had deposited the mug in the sink and was walking back toward Will.

"That sounds very expensive." Will commented, and Hannibal looked unimpressed. Apparently Will mentioning money wasn't something he approved of, so Will shrugged it off and rubbed the side of his face, "And where is our final destination?" he asked as he folded his arms across his bare chest, self-conscious again as Hannibal's eyes moved over the length of his body.

Hannibal once again met Will's awkwardness with bold contact, having been reassured that Will didn't mind, he moved confidently, walking over and standing behind Will, sliding his arms around Will's waist. And Will was forced to trample down his nervousness, because his body reacted with butterflies and warmth when he was pressed back against Hannibal's bare chest.

Hannibal was nosing at the hair behind Will's ear when he answered,

" _Thessaloniki_ , in Greece. It's a beautiful city, reasonably modern, diverse people and interesting places. You'll find there is plenty to do in the way of entertainment, for my tastes and yours. We have a villa waiting for us in the south, removed enough from people so that we'll have privacy but within short driving distance of the city center."

Will's heartbeat picked up several paces at hearing Hannibal use the word 'we', but he tried not to overreact or point out that he felt like Hannibal was being too generous, he knew the man wouldn't appreciate it, so he kept it to himself while feeling quietly elated. He knew about _Thessaloniki_ , it was massive and one of the more prominent places in Greece, it also had a healthy influx of tourists, while not strictly being a tourist city, and there was a lot of foreign student travelers as well, so people could go missing here and there, so long as Hannibal was careful –which he always was- and didn't leave any kind of serial killer signature –which Will would insist he didn't- it probably wouldn't stand out much.

Will raised an eyebrow, quite comfortable with his own train of thought concerning Hannibal's homicidal tendencies, and he felt even more comfortable the longer he was leaning back against Hannibal,

"It isn't exactly a place one would overlook on a map, Hannibal." He voiced his primary concern, because it had been a city on Will's list when he'd been looking for Hannibal, which meant if police were ever looking for them, it might come up.

"I find hiding in plain sight often works better than attempting to hide one's self away completely." He said surely, kissing Will's ear and making him shiver lightly as he placed a hand on one of Hannibal's forearms around his middle. Hannibal knew better than Will on the subject of evading authorities anyway, so he wouldn't argue, the man had been hiding in plain sight all his life after all.

So Will conceded with a small nod and smiled,

"It sounds amazing, Hannibal." He sighed and shook his head lightly, "It sounds unreal too, actually."

"I assure you, Will, it's very, very real." Hannibal said in a low voice against Will's ear, his hands sliding to splay out on Will's bare stomach, "And if you find you aren't happy in Greece, you need only tell me and we will leave." He kissed Will's neck then and inhaled against his skin, and Will swallowed against the emotions rising in his chest and throat along with aroused heat as his body reacted to the touches, "Anything you want that is within my means to give you, you should consider it yours." Hannibal finished.

Will was reeling slightly, he certainly didn't feel as though he deserved _anything_ he wanted. But again, saying that to Hannibal felt selfish somehow. For the longest time Hannibal had expressed wanting to run away and be with him and this was probably what he'd always meant, he wanted to give all of this to Will. So Will ignored his doubt about his own worthiness, knowing at least, that he would never take advantage of Hannibal, but that it would be wrong to turn his gifts down completely. He squeezed Hannibal's forearm then, feeling downy hair and muscle under his hand and he aimed to be funny when he said,

"What if I'd like a new pack of stray dogs?" he was smiling as he placed his hand over one of Hannibal's and for the second time, Hannibal linked their fingers, making Will inwardly giddy.

There was barely a beat between Will's comment and Hannibal's answer,

"Then it's a good thing that the villa is in the suburbs, with an enclosed property and plenty of yard space." And Hannibal said it so seriously that if he hadn't had his arms around Will, he might have fallen over.

Will couldn't help it then, he had to say something, Hannibal was being ridiculously accommodating,

"God, _Hannibal_ , you can't jus-…"

"I can…" he cut Will off, kissing his neck again, squeezing their fingers together, "…and I intend to."

There was no room for argument in Hannibal's earnest words and Will huffed, smiling and defeated, as he turned around to face Hannibal, tossing any nervousness he'd been feeling aside and bringing his arms up around Hannibal's neck as he kissed the older man. It was sweet, just lips at first, but gradually it became heated, Will sliding his fingers through Hannibal's wet hair while Hannibal's hands stroked over his back and sides and waist. Will was really enjoying it too, kissing Hannibal so openly and not in the enclosed space of a room, because he could, because it would be his life now, he'd be living as Hannibal's romantic partner and he looked forward to it. He moaned softly when Hannibal's hands settled on his ass over the towel and he brought their hips together. Will could feel the older man's hardening cock between them and his own was just about the same.

Hannibal drew back from the kiss not long after that, taking in a deep breath,

"Perhaps we can continue this when we get back.…" he said in a raspy tone and Will was listening, still pressing kisses to Hannibal's neck, but listening, "...we still need to go ashore, we have a lot to do and it's getting later." He pointed out, his hands settling on Will's waist again.

Will groaned against Hannibal's neck and continued to hold onto him,

"I really shouldn't have slept so damn late…" he complained, inhaling the scent of saltwater on Hannibal's skin, "…I was just so exhausted." He admitted.

Hannibal hummed, and circled his arms around Will again, holding him tighter,

"Unfortunately I can't take all the credit for your exhaustion, we both had a long day." His voice became low and suggestive, "However, I'm certain that won't be the case in future, I will do better."

Will grinned against Hannibal's skin,

"I don't know…I feel really well done." He said with a crooked grin, knowing the cooking pun would amuse Hannibal.

And it did.

The cannibal in Hannibal laughed darkly, but the lover in Hannibal pressed a few slow kisses from Will's neck and up along the side of his face before he sighed, sounding just as content as Will felt.

His tone was disbelieving when he spoke against Will's forehead,

"Will…?" he said quietly, and it sounded like a question, one that Hannibal had asked many times and Will had always denied him the answer to.

It was the question Will had been uncertain of the answer to for the longest time.

But he wasn't anymore.

Will immediately thought;

 _I'm here to stay. This is real. We will be together._

 _I'm in love with you._

 _I need you._

 _I won't leave you._

 _Yes._

 _I'm yours…_

And when Will closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to Hannibal's lips, he responded with raw honesty, spoken with a tremor in his voice, he said the only thing that was a sufficient answer,

"Hannibal."

* * *

 _And everything I'd ever want  
Is inside of here_


End file.
